I've Got Love Written On My Grocery List
by YourAngstyNeighborhoodEmoTeen
Summary: Jake English has an in-depth obsession with the staff that restock the food in grocery stores. We see how he deals, and what else he discovers about not only himself, but also the world.
1. The Grocery

You go about your morning as usual other than you remember it's friday but Gramma lets you stay home, eventually while brushing your teeth your Grandmother calls you. Upon confronting her she tells you that she'd like you to help her with aquiring the groceries. That kind, innocent, gentlemanly part of you (the part she raised) tempts you to say, "Sure thing Gramma!" In that enthusiastic, effeminate tone you've come to be known for over the years. However, the other much more confusing, dark and downright weird part of yourself (the part you conjured up all by yourself) shuts your mouth for you.

Damnit, Grandma knows about your "condition", it's quite improper for her to just blatantly ignore it like that. The generous portion of you says that maybe she forgot? She is getting older, sometimes you forget she isn't as young as your mother would've been.

"Jacob, you're taking too long to respond for anything good to come out of your mouth." she says, drawing you back to reality.

"Oh sorr- Grandma, I can't help but feel the slightest bit wounded at that," you say back, why does she seem upset with you?

"I know when you stop and do your little day dreams that the answer will either be no or it'll just never come."

"Now that's not always tr-" she cuts you off...she never cuts you off.

"Look, I've tried to be as tolerant of your so called 'condition' as I can with you but you can't keep avoiding the town," she says with what looks to be actual concern for you now, "I even let you miss church because of your whole issue," she adds.

You blush lightly, out of embarrassment and slight arousal at the memory. When you were younger you began to discover your darker desires through those weekly visits. Watching the people all put, stock, change into the pot at the end of each ceremony was oddly arousing for you. It often left you stressing, desperate to hide your boner. Eventually you felt so bad about doing that in Church of all places that you told your Grandma. Since then she often lets you avoid it, but nonetheless despite her adoration for you that was a very awkward conversation to have.

"But you can't keep avoiding something as simple as the damn grocery store. You're 17, when you move out you're just gonna force your lover to do all the shopping alone?" She's never brought this up before, how long had she been feeling this way?

"I know, just, I'm figuring things out I... Okay not like that but just, I-" All aboard the stutter train, prepare for derailment.

"I'm not asking, I'm telling you that you're coming along. Get in the car, honey." With that she leaves to get ready.

You reluctantly enter the mini van accepting your fate. You try to look on the bright side. Maybe to spite her, instead of fighting it you could give in and take pleasure in this grocery trip. You've dreaded grocery visits since your younger years when you developed an inexplicable obsession with grocery store staff.

Just seeing foods go from one place to another, knowing that inevitably it may one day be yours is too much. Almost like some sort of dominance kink you apply to the food that inadvertently is reflected upon the grocers themselves. Since store staff are how the food is put in that vulnerable position you just need to have them. If you have them, then you have the food in a way. Just thinking about the men and women at the local grocery gets your celery stiff.

* * *

The trip goes alright but you were too self conscious to _really_ enjoy it, after that hour you're back in the car with your beloved Grandmother. Your mind is still flooded with the repetitive images of the woman restocking the apples, that handsome lad restocking the soda section. You try your hardest to force the thoughts, as well as your body's response to them, away. When suddenly your call is answered by your Grandmother distracting you.

"Ya know I'm sorry for raising my voice earlier but every time that's how it goes. You stutter your way through the entire conversation until you're off the hook. I just don't want you to become a hermit over," she glances at your lap and she immediately regrets it, "this. A-anyways since you came willingly you can pick out a movie at BrockBustler 'kay?" You suddenly feel a large smile invade your face.


	2. Could A' Named it BroncoBuster, Too Late

You exit the car in a flash practically sprinting into BrockBustler. Once inside you feel at home, not out of place or like some strange perverted presence in the grocery store. It's true bliss.

A large, silver framed, scandalous picture of Nicholas Cage is hung to the left of the entrance.

To your right, by Jove! It's a window!

On the other side is your Grandmother wondering why the hell your still dicking around at the doors. She adoringly flips you off with love you're sure, returning to her mobile Yahtzedd game.

You go downstairs away from all the kids movies, heading to the basement.

There you note the new Space Jam poster, briefly considering getting up since it's time to space jam, and they claim to have a real thing going and all. However such brilliant marketing tactics shall not ensnare you today.

You traverse the isles, but nothing speaks to you damnit! However in the last isle you do find something that's actually capable of speech.

A coltish chap, with a bit more muscle definition than what you'd expect from a BrockBustler employee. Maybe he's the bounty hunter that finds you and kicks your ass when you don't bring a rental back.

You walk over and tap him on the shoulder, to get his attention. You explain your movie picking predicament and he looks at you like you're a dumbass after you ask what movie he recommends. You can't even see his eyes for flippin' cheeses, his face is just that expressive.

Despite his presumed discontent he takes you over to a shelf of foreign films you've never heard of.

"Kay, you're asking for a guy-who-barely-watches-television's film recommendations, so here goes." He goes into an in-depth rundown of the film and though voice is definitely attractive, you lose interest after a couple of minutes. You do make a few last attempts to pay attention once more but it's no use.

Probably best you ignore him, he seems to be giving you a detailed exposition of the entire plot rather than a preview of it.

You pay attention to the lips forming the words instead, thin and pale, you wouldn't blame this guy if he started using lipstick. Is he a vampire? You open your mouth to make an "I know what you are," joke but stop when you think of how out of the blue it'd be. It would probably offend the poor bloke who's doing his best to help you as well.

Your eyes think you're a dumb ass so they travel up to his hair. Bright yellow, you're not even sure you can call it blonde, someone was just trying way too hard to be a bottle blonde. The texture looks to be titanium, expertly gelled bullet proof locks, though it must be impossible to run anything through it still looks good.

He reminds you of Astro-Boy boy if he wasn't a robot and ended up not saving Metro City. Falling back to a crummy rental store job in his teen years on the surface world.

As a nervous tick, you presume, he frequently rubs the bridge of his nose and high points of his cheek bones. On them are multiple freckles, perfectly dotting his face in a precise pattern. Only three individual freckles aren't like this, they're a bit blotchy, he rubs his cheek... four? Maybe you just didn't see it the first time.

You're brought back to the present by a repetitive noise. Oh gosh, he's snapping his fingers to get your attention. You immediately grab the movie and shout "Sounds great ol' chap I'll adore it!" ripping the case from his hand.

He looks heavily taken aback by your abrupt movements. You try to save this, "U-uhm sorry, I just zoned out a little, lost in the incredible majesty of the plot and whatnot... yeah."

"...Sure," he isn't sure, "I'll just help you check that out then."

He heads over to a counter of cds and looks for yours but he returns to you with an expression of annoyance instead.

"Shit, gimmie a sec, were missing a few returns up here." He leaves, returning moments later with a box of said returns.

He begins... oh no, restocking the shelf, immediately it becomes a spiritual experience for you. Watching his hands control the films, his slim digits tracing the quadrilateral cases, dominating them into shelved submission.

When he finally hands you the movie you almost burst right there, in the middle of BrockBustler. Thankfully you restrain, practically throwing the cash at him and making a horny retreat.

You slam the door at buckle up screaming for your Grandmother to drive. She sighs heavily throwing her Yahtzedd down and hitting the gas.

It's not an issue since she knows better than to ever ask about the odd things you do.


	3. Janette, Please

The scent of seasoned tomato sauce and meat wafts through the hallway as you make your way to the kitchen table.

No matter how many times you and her have both gone through this you still can't help but be horrifically embarrassed when it happens. You like to assume that your Grandmother is unaware until proven knowledgeable, but you can't fool yourself, or her, for long.

When she places dinner in front of you she tilts your chin up with her hand and says "Hey, don't be upsetti, have some-" you give her a glare worse than the time she revoked your teen magazine privileges, "...pasta," she finishes quietly.

You let out a deep sigh as you eat your lasagna. You briefly consider actually talking about your feelings with your guardian like you used to after dinner. You almost choke on your food as you plunge it down your throat, if you're not fast she'll be on the phone when you want to open up.

You drop the dishes into the sink scaring yourself with the clatter that arises afterwards, heading into the living room only to find she's on that damn phone.

"Yeah, well," she rolls a dice on the high top counter beside her, "I rolled 8, what'll that get me dear Xerzucirs, grand illustrious lord of the serpentine?" Damn it, you have no idea what she's talking about whenever she's on the phone with that individual.

"I have 16 attack points, I think we can handle it Xerc'y, let's slay that fucker."

You're a bit scared, whatever she's talking about with such excitement, you don't think you want to know.

She casts a dark glance at you, "Damn it, Jake this is my time, I didn't get to be a crazy old woman on the back of Harley bikes cause I had to raise your dumb ass. I've earned this." She flips you off, you decide to let her have this, she does love you a lot.

When you enter your room you immediately flop onto your bed sighing like a dramatic angsty teenager. Leaning over you're mattress you grab a couple of magazines, then get back up to lock your door before grabbing the phone. If your Grandmother catches you reading these you'll be grounded.

You call up Jane, positioning the phone between your head and shoulder while you lie flat on your stomach, crossing your lumberjack legs behind you.

As it rings you open your T33nzDream magazine to an intriguing article about Sailor Swift, cheese and crackers plaid is not her style. You liked her fall wardrobe better. Holy Swedish rutabagas the publisher claims to have actual insider secrets on her current marriage debacle?!

You produce a sharp, intensely audibly gasp.

"Huh, you okay?" Jane's voice fills your ear.

"Oh yes, sorry if I gave you a fright." You apologize.

"Oh god, now I'm scared." Good, she knows it's you.

"How are things, Janey?" You coo into the phone.

"Jake I have to do something sudden and so nondescript I can't tell you about it, goodb-"

"Janette, please." You cut her off, Grandma didn't raise no fool.

"No!" She shouts.

"She just hung up on me, John, right when I needed her most. That's when my grades really plummeted, I had no self-esteem anymore. So I started trying drugs to calm my nerves." You say briskly into the phone.

"Oh come on! You are not getting me in shit from my cousin for this, I told you I have a very important nondescript activity!" She snaps at you.

"Then I guess John will understand, and I'll have to start drugs then." You say in mock discontentment.

"You don't _start_ drugs, you probably have no idea how to _do_ any of them," the silence is empty so you decide to fill it, "GRAM-"

"Shut up Jake! I'll listen, frig. I'd rather deal with your stupid problems than her sadistic wrath," she gives in.

"Okay so today, I got became quite flustered in BrockBustler," she's silent for a moment.

"... seriously,"

"Yes, I know! It was quite bizarre and it gets even more interesting," You respond excitedly.

"Congratulations on pitching a tent to store all your movies inside. All you need is a food fetish and then you don't have to leave the house anymore. We couldn't let you." She says sarcastically... maybe.

"Ugh no, it was for a chap, not the movies in general."

"So which actor does he look like?"

"None! Well mayb- seriously though! The boner he induced, along with other aspects of him makes me think I may favor the bloke."

"Your dicks not a compass, sorry to say," she sasses you.

"I'd call you useless if I wasn't so polite." You say.

"... you technically did anyway but whatever. I honestly don't care but the answer to your problem, like usual, is probably really simple. Go ask him to hangout, drink by the docks, fuck in the back of his car, something." She hangs up after dropping those horrifically out-there and presumptuous suggestions.

Hiding your teen magazines under your bed again you decide you shall go speak with the gent tomorrow. Not sure what you'll say though... maybe that you know what he is.

You start chuckling at your own joke again until you fall asleep.


	4. Eloquently Ever-present Ellipsis

Today you think you may become a man, but probably wont knowing you. You continue onward to the BrockBuster- woops you mean BrockBustler, how silly of you. With the goal of acting out your self-pledged commitment to politely hit on the dvd stocking employee of your dreams. Your quest passes a grand milestone as you politely ask you grandmother to drive you there again.

"You didn't even watch the damn movie, I'm sure I would've heard it blaring through the house," she rebutted at your request for transportation.

"Grammaa-" You say in a pleading tone, expecting her to cut you off.

"No." She says flatly.

You never grew up so you have a fully stocked arsenal of toddler-esq persuasion tactics. You start whimpering and she gives you the worst look. She's probably getting sick of your shit but she wont kick you out, not yet at least. You inhale sharp breathes as you prepare to cry, she knows you'll do it to.

"Next time you do this I'm grounding you and revoking your internet privileges. I'll drive you this time just because this is a warning but understand that you have been... warned."

So with that your quest pushes forward! You're persuasion tactics are untouchable.

Once you arrive at BrockBustler you enter the store, you hear many a movie go-ers checking out new cinema and the deep sigh of your grandmother. She has definitely gained distance with her sighing over the years, before you could only hear it 2 meters from the car.

You head downstairs and see the blonde idling at the till and jog over, but like... casually, not like you came here exclusively for him or anything. You stand in front of the till, leaning you weight on your arm as it lays splayed across the counter taking a suave approach.

"Oh 'ey, neat seein' you 'er again." You slur out casually.

He looks up from his phone to you though his expression changes to one of bewilderment, "... what..." he responds bluntly.

Fuddletrumpet! Your English accent doesn't combine well with trying to half pronounce words like a cool person since your accent is basically that to begin with. "I um... returning this, yeah. So how are things?"

"Oh, alright I'll get on that," he takes the case, "how'd ya like it anyways?"

"Oh I uh," cheesesticks, all you did was read the back... good enough, "I thought it was a thrilling tale of woe and uh, and interesting take on a curse of that nature," saved.

"Yeah, Starlene was really well developed in my opinion, which was your favorite character?" He finishes scanning the dvd and slides it back into its folder, a shiver runs through you.

"The son, he was pretty umm developed," You respond dully.

"... okay, so what did you think of... Stacy?" frigglesticks, you don't recall a Stacy.

"She was interesting..."

"Really? I didn't even see her in the movie, she must be a very elusive character with no presence in the story at all then," is he hinting at something?

"... yes,"

"So you totally didn't watch the movie." Woahly dickens, how did the bugger figure you out so fast?

"Of course I did, I just don't have good memory uhh, say speaking of movies are there anymore cinematic suggestions from the-guy-who-barely-watches-television?" Double save.

"... sure. You better actually watch it this time," he responds with a mixture of hurt and annoyance.

Within minutes you hold the next film in your hands, having survived the erotic display before you with the grace of a broken-legged gazelle. You almost leave before remembering what you had actually came here to check out. You tell him your television had broke and that's why you were incapable of watching the movie, you cut him off as he asks why you'd dare check out a second. Suggesting that maybe you could watch it on a friends tv, to insure optimal viewing of said film... maybe with a friend who deals in cinema daily?

After a sea of eyebrow waggles that could replace the Pacific Ocean he finally admits to having caught your drift and invites you over. Hell yes, this is probably how most relationships begin, deception and suggestion... oh well um... no there's got to be more than that. Before leaving you catch a glimpse at his name tag, okay that's pretty bad you didn't know his name but hey, in that single glance you've atoned for your mistake.

You say in a polite tone, "Thanks, Dick," before leaving the premises.

You sit at home with pride in your gut and a movie you just realized has a Japanese cover and back... you wouldn't have been able to fake watching this one... _clever bloke._


	5. What Could Pawssibly Go Wrong?

You skip mentally recapping your completely fascinating morning for once because that is simply how fast it seemed to fly by. Like when you're an hour into one of your favorite movies you're just anxious to get the to the part where the characters profess their unyielding love. You haven't quite reached that part yet in real life though so you do you're best to mentally narrate your current position. Which would be a vertical one, don't you think like that, you mean your standing upright in the doorway on your way to board the Dick express... you really hope he has a nickname that's easier to drop in conversation.

He arrives in a pick-up truck, how fitting, it's almost as if he were here to pick you up... wait okay that joke needs work, no time. You strut over to the truck like the gorgeous being of pure light you are and hop in, effectively smashing your knee on the door as you enter. Handing him the dvd, you assure your new comrade that you're quite alright and his door isn't all those obscenities you called it, you go on to compliment his door. When a man is insecure about the doors on his own vehicle how can he wake up in the morning with a good sense of self-respect?

The rides over when he reaches an apartment with a bit above average height, highly risen, rising high, piercing the sky. He takes the stairs for some bizarre reason, you deem it bizarre once you've gone up about fifteen flights of stairs. Why didn't the chap take the blasted elevator?

"How unfortunate that the elevator is under repair huh?" You attempt to strike up conversation again.

"Oh it works just fine, this is just what I do to keep myself nice n' ripped." You choke on your own laughter, putting your hand to your mouth.

"Yeah, not really. I just don't like the elevator is all," he laughs in response.

In the time it would've taken for the new lord to rise, die, and arise once more, you assume you've finally reached the floor he lives on, of course it was the top one. He opens the door allowing you first entrance, since no ladies are present you feel honored as the esteemed guest. The first thing you notice is that his apartment seems reminiscent of those you see your main protagonist walk into before they're engaged in a battle of martial arts. The walls have a vast array of swords and weaponry displayed on them that your sure must be illegal to own in such quantity.

Dick notices your staring and takes to reassuring you, "Oh my older brother's super rich and decides to spend his time collecting unique swords n' shit since he doesn't work anymore and needed something to brag to his friends about," you still can't help but be weary, he notices.

"Look, You could tell your friends you don't do anything for a living anymore, versus collecting weapons for a living, no one will have the balls to diss you, because if they think that's lame guess what, you have half of China's most ancient weaponry ever made in your living room."

Your still not completely okay with this but as he goes on it worries you more and more so you cut his rant short. "So was food going to be provided during this affair or... " you trail off, silently cueing him to answer.

"Oh yeah sure, we got chips 'n shit... " he says bluntly.

"... and?" You're a little too inquisitive to accept "chips 'n shit" as an answer.

"... as well as noodles 'n shit," he shrugs, good enough. You'll figure it out.

You head over fridge and take out a can of Bubsy Soda and slam it, what could pawssibly go wrong.


	6. Who Did It? Stealing The TV I Mean

Dick kneels down inserting the DVD into the player that you note looks more expensive than yours, same with the couch, and kinda everything else here. If any one of the residents had actually made an effort with the decor here then you would feel under dressed, but the collection of 30 plus soda cans across the pristine crystal glass table tell you you're attire is just dandy.

When you turn to investigate the rest of the kitchen a wild youth appears! You don't engage it, whoever he is he just wanted by you to get some Doritos. Oh hey Doritos, you could go for that. You grab a bag trying desperately to hide your concerned expression when you see the Doritos go about 4 rows back until the rest are obscured by darkness, do they have an end?

The child looks sated, you decide to engage it now, "Well 'ello there, what's your name?"

"You may call me god, bow down and bring me soda," he sounds genuinely serious.

"Aha, ha. Very funny." Not funny, "Really now."

"Dave, now what's the most offensive thing someone's called you? It's your new name to me," he says.

"Jacob," you answer, deadpan.

"Who called you that?" Sarcasm is practically pouring from his lips.

"My Grandmother." You respond dully.

"Harsh, she really hates you,"

You change the topic hoping to steer him in a more polite direction, "Say, would you like to watch a movie with us David?"

"Don't call me David, that's Bro's name, also just don't call anyone David. Just remove that from your vocabulary, and sure," he heads to the living room and throws himself at the couch hoping for the best. Of course Dick is already present on the couch, you think he had been waiting politely for the two of you, only to be crushed under 90 or so pounds of little brother.

"Damnit Dave!"

"Sorry frig, don't sit on the couch first then if you don't wanna be crushed," Dave rolls himself off the couch and repositions so he isn't invading Dick's space nearly as much as previous.

You take your seat beside them.

* * *

About two hours into the film you're concerned because it doesn't seem to have passed the climax yet, or anything that appears to be leading up to it. After asking Dick about it he reveals to you the movie is little over 5 hours long. Okay no you did not sign up for this. To calm your presents tantrum he tells you there's an intermission and you don't have to finish all of it today, just make it to the 3 hour mark.

You hit the 3 hours mark, woah what's this now? He was right , one could take a break here but you can't say you want to. It's a noticeable change from the films previous setting, plot and characters you've seen up until this point. These guys are all green and talking some really serious business, a drastic contrast to the shenanigans of the main protagonist youths that were the original focus of the film. You were getting pretty sick of that wild Washington boy's shit to be honest, you thought the insomniac gun-toting-lass was pretty 'boss' though. Currently you're most interested in the shenanigans of the two chaps named after breakfast foods.

Dick pauses the movie, what feels like 5 minutes in, to answer a call. He sounds only slightly annoyed at first, eventually flipping to content chummy banter with his caller. He soon proposes to you that his friend wants to come over for the viewing. As long as you're 'down' with watching more of the film he said he'd go get her either while you watch the Intermission or just leave it paused and find something to busy yourself with.

"Whatever you do just don't steal my shit, the last guy I invited over from work stole my TV, I don't even know how he did it. Like, I was his ride, and that TV's huge, granted he was huge but did he really just fucking carry it out and take a cab... or even more terrifying did he walk all the way back to his house with it?" He stops, himself, "Anyways I don't think you'd do that but thought I'd put the warning there. I do know where you live now since I picked you up so keep that in min," he initiates a fistbump that you haphazardly return, knocking his brother in the face with your, fortunately for Dave, soft fist.

You agree and Dick leaves. Leaving you alone. With Dave, and the TV he refuses to give you the remote to.


	7. The Sass Game

You really don't like how long this silence is lasting. Dave's just soullessly eating chips on the other end of the couch, you're not sure but you think every time you away and back he's just a little bit closer. You notice the plate of crackers and cheese whiz on the table... when did those get there. As well as the lovely arrangement of candles and a doily beneath a bowl of... Chestnuts. You're gonna die here, but seriously when did those get there?

Dave comes to the aid of your concerned glare, "Yeah, Bro puts stuff out when Dirk brings friends over. Dirk hates it though so he tries to do it without being seen, and this time his efforts appear to have succeeded."

"Oh, well that's nice of the fella I suppose. Just a bit alarming at first, and it still sort of is. He was able to get in and out of this room putting food in front of us without anyone's notice?" You reply a little relieved but still worried.

"No, I saw him. Didn't say anything, he brought the crackers I actually like. Usually he puts out the guest exclusive crackers that he knows are Dirk's favorite," he replies, you think he's staring at the crackers with that lustful gaze.

"B'right back," he drawls out, letting his accent slip as he heads down the hall for a moment.

Your eyes are drawn back to the chest nuts, you really don't wanna be around them for long. You doubt Dave is going to be the brother that would save your life in this situation, and you currently don't appear to be capable of seeing the other one so you don't care to find out which one would come to your aid. Dave re-enters the room as you laugh at the thought of being able to tell your friends you were saved by Dick, but silliness aside you realize the bathroom is a convenient out to distance your self from Dave for just a bit longer.

When you return you're greeted by Dave staring at you, intensely so. Maybe you aren't though, his glasses look pretty one way, obscuring his eyes from you behind the shiny black lens of his aviators. He almost likes like he's thinking, then he smirks a little.

It unnerves you, "Alright. What's so funny then? Spit it out chap," you put up a dominant front because to be honest you're feeling pretty self-conscious right now.

"Your hair, kinda messy. You're not gonna impress my brother who's hair is basically a level up from Guy Fieri's, lookin' like that," he says nonchalantly.

Something doesn't ad up, "Why do you care?"

"Because... " he drags out the end for a moment before resuming normal speech, "every guy that came over trying to hit on him has been turned down or just not approached at all. And every time they take it out on the TV... every fucking time. Then I've gotta hear about how Dave the Watchgaurd failed to stop the smashing of the plasma screen, the TV being dropped out the window, and that one guy who actually stole it somehow. I hope to every deity that I don't actually believe in that you succeed, or at least if you fail that you don't take it out on the TV. All it's done has provided you with high quality visuals on a decent quality movie, spare it," he finishes his rant.

"... Oh... that's unfortunate," you're not sure what to say about that really but you suppose you're do did appear to be in need of some fixing up during your time in the facilities. When you enter the bathroom again there doesn't appear to be any hair care products or cosmetics of any kind with the exception of some red eyeliner... who would use that? This is absurd! Surely Dick uses at least 5 pounds of hair product every morning, he's not one of those sick glue-haired Ken dolls that need no styling whatsoever, not that you ever played with one of those dolls and tried to style it's hair or anything.

"Dave where have all the styling utensils gone to?" You lean out from behind the wall, which while really unnecessary, feels pretty cool and just right in this long hallway.

"Oh, yeah, it's all in the basement. We put it away so our guests don't steal it or something, shits expensive. Down the hall and to the right, oh and don't fall down the stairs."

"Thanks for the warning, if I were six that may have saved my life," you can play his game.


	8. The Last Game

You go down the hallway and to the right like he said, opening the door to reveal a staircase that descends to the basement floor below. You head on down, the steps quietly creaking beneath your feet, then you hear something but can't place it. Once you reach the floor you walk to the center of the room and get a good look around at everything.

Seeing a few boxes scattered about marked things like "SB&amp;HJ Originals", or "Weird Hentai Shit Dirk Likes But Is Too Obsessive To Fucking Throw Away Already" with Dick's name spelt wrong. Out of curiosity you peek in that box a little but don't find anything of the lewd variety, you think calling it hentai was a joke, it's just some books about a butler or something and some about warriors fighting giants? A large collection of graphic fantasy novels and nothing more, to your left is where you find what you're searching for. A pile of hastily placed hair products with no method of organization in the slightest.

You hear the door upstairs click shut before the repetitive sounds of someone's footsteps begins, whoever it is practically bolts down to see you standing there dumbfounded beside a chaotic pile of hair products. It looks to be a man in 90's clothes with bright white hair, he doesn't look old enough for his hair to have lost it's color though, maybe a really intense bleaching? He also sports aviators akin to Dave's.

"Howdy!" They intensely drawl at you, frig they look oddly excited now. It'd scare you less if they looked a bit younger, he's definitely not in his teens. Oh god, he runs up and hugs you, "Ya must be Dirk's friend! How's it goin'? You guys 're likin' the crackers right? Do I need a' get y'all s'more?" You stop him before he continues on, still caught off guard a bit by that abrupt show of affection.

"Yes, yes! We liked them okay? I'd prefer if you didn't set any kinds of nuts out though, I'm allergic," you tell him.

"I'm so sorry oh my god, I'm gonna throw out all the peanuts man it's fine, k. You alright?" He looks like he's about the cry.

You look yourself up and down dramatically, "I think I'm gonna be alright Sir."

"Oh, that makes me soun' kinda old, call me David," you briefly remember the first thing you were taught upon entering this residency, just don't call anyone David, but it seems fine.

"Alright David, while I'll be on my way, I just came down to get the hair products you guys stowed away. Dave said I could use them , I'm not stealing them or anything," you respond.

"... Why would ya? That's comple'ely fine man, hell you can take some home if you want I 'on't care," alright that seems a bit odd, they can't be this trusting.

"Well that's great, see you around then." You turn to pick up some of the utensils but he suddenly appears in front of you. How the hell... you think this must be the maneuver used to deliver the crackers undetected, it's scarier to see it before your eyes like this.

"Hey, uh, we have other cool stuff down 'ere aside from hair products though,"

"Really I think I'm good," you assure him.

"No, no really," he's still blocking the pile, "um," he looks around, you think he's pulling out all the stops to keep you here longer and you don't like that.

David's eyes stop at a large circular glass table in the center of the basement. "Ever played D&amp;D?"

"... No. Great hearing about it thou-"

"No problem, I can teach'cha." He takes you by the hand and leads you to the table, you accept the dark reality that you're not leaving until you've played at least one round of his sick game now. You must play his game.


	9. Have Your Weapons Drawled

David tasked you with making up a character to play as for this "adventure" as he called it, while he left for a moment. You briefly sought escape but returned to your seat quickly once you heard him returning from upstairs. He came over to the table and placed four neat paper doilies you assume he made, then placed candles on them. The candles were lit and the basement light clicked off, he said this was necessary for a truly immersive role-playing experience.

"I'm goin' to be the Dungeon Master for this since you kinda can't, ya haven't been trained. Luck'ly y're in the presence of an A Rank DM, I've 'ad tons of time to practice the ancient methods and intricate ways a' guidin' teams through darin', grandiose journeys, only spoken of in the 2000 to 2006 editions, because e'erythin' before that is blasphemy," David declares.

"Alright, so, I shall play as Fireram the Courageous, King of ThistleDale," he announces, "e'en though he's a king he's not OP, don't worry. I picked 'im because he's weaker, no offense but I thought he'd be a better choice of companion for your first game."

"... Alright then... umm. I'll be... Jeff the embarrassed Elf, embarrassed by everything including his existence and the world he resides in," you say making approximately zero effort.

"... I think you need some help. Here 're some character sheets, I've 'ad a lot a' time to develop characters as well during my DM pract'ces. You need teams a' char'ters to truly adventure, even if their all piloted by one person." He passes you a few pieces of paper with a name and general bio of the character on each.

Complete with optional roles, points for whatever, and some actually have complete sketches of the character that look really well done. You consider inquiring about who drew them but then that'd just delay your exit from this real life dungeon, you're not leaving without playing a round that he's satisfied with.

After perusing through the few wondrous characters he handed you such as, Jaqulyn, a gorgeous Elven tavern waitress, Somenameyoucantpronounce the confusing Witch of the North, Jack the friendly skeleton, you decide on one named Scott. Scott the Noble, Knight and Protector of Princess Dix. You hope that's some unique spelling and her name is pronounced differently than how you think.

"Yeah I think that's better than Jeff, no offense. So here's your paper," he hands you a blank piece of lined paper and a pencil, you are very confused.

"Let's begin then, so our trav'lers begin outside the humble town a' Evervale, walkin' along the path a' blue stone laid down by the many Orc slaves before them. The heat of the planets two green suns warmin' the air 'round 'em..." You become immersed in a fantastic world of whimsy and wonder, enveloped by the gorgeous sights David weaves with his words around you. Oh wait, no you don't. You're still sitting in a dark ass basement with a grown adult who wants to play pretend with his brother's guest to candle light.

"A truly wondrous day to be out, what shall the trav'lers do on this fine day?" David asks.

He keeps looking at you with the look of a puppy waiting for you command it until you respond, "Um... the two set a quest to brutally murder the creatures responsible for their existence and look to the skies screaming with wild abandon that the gods above them will commit suicide right on the table that they were told had been their world from birth. T'was all an illusion."

David stands up abruptly and slams his hands down on the table almost shattering it, "O'KAY NO. NO!" You almost piss yourself on the spot.

"THERE WILL BE NO WALL BREAKIN', AN' NO META. I DON' EVEN JUS'... FUCKIN' NO," he points a finger at you with all the authority of Thor himself and demands, intensly drawling, "NE'ER AGAIN. DON'TDOIT!"

After about 10 seconds of solid heavy breathing, his chest ceases its heaving and David sits down, sighing deeply then regaining his composure. "Sorry just... we don't do things that way around here. Mm'kay?"

"Take this ser'sly, please," he adds. You suddenly feel a large amount of respect for this game you decide that you should take it really seriously, how you could've been so blind to the light before you do not know.


	10. Drawling The Bigger Picture

"So hehe... what do our travelers do again? I misheard the first time," he asks once more.

"Umm Scott asks 'For what reasons do you protect Princess Dix, be they moral or political?'" You deepen your voice a bit for effect.

* * *

Fireram considered Scott's question a bit odd, maybe his drinking problems hadn't been progressing well. "I must admit, I'mma bit worried for ya, Scott. It's not like ya to jus' forget somethin' as important as your royal duties. Being as you're Princess Dix's most noble and prestige, leading knight."

"Oh umm... I have nothing."

Fireram, tilted his head a bit and responded, "That's quite-

* * *

"No, I mean I don't have any ideas what to do here, genius," you say, this time it removes him from the trance he was in prior.

"... huh. Oh! Okay don't jus' zone out like that. You gotta actually state when we need a' talk outta context. Next time ask to speak OOC first, and since I'm the DM I s'pose I can help ya start this off since y're havin' trouble," David says before providing the assistance.

* * *

Before Fireram can respond his stellar hearing alerts him to the call of a woman near by, he looks down the path to see an Elven maiden running out of the city panicked and carrying a scroll. Once she reaches them she introduces herself, "I am Jaqulyn, I work in a tavern near by but Princess Dix has asked me to deliver this message to ya since I'm one of 'er childhood friends. She was just attacked by a putrid beast of malice and dark intent."

Scott is completely ambivalent to Jaqulyn's introduction, while Firearm pays considerate attention to her as a person and also for the fact she's about to deliver important information. Scott decides he cares just a little bit now and listens in.

"Dearest, Scott. As 'er noblest and lead knight, Princess Dix demands that ya defend her honor and the safety a' the cit'zens by findin' the beast and neutralizing the threat as peacefully as possible. However, if slaying the beast is necessary then she will allow it."

"Oh... that sucks," Fireram sharply elbows Scott for his disrespecting tone, "I mean, we'll accept that quest I guess. That was a quest right?" Scott looks to Fireram, Fireram nods awaiting for Scott to fully catch on already and move this along. "Then we accept. Where will we find this beast of burden?"

Jaqulyn smiles in relief, resting her pristine Elf features and goes on to say, "While we cannot know it's exact location, I believe your best hope is to follow it into the forest where it fled. Just beyond the tallest spire of the castle into our wheat obscuring forests. I pray for our crops safety, hopefully the beast is unaware of it's importance."

Scott walks away without even acknowledging the maiden's help, admitting soon after that he forgot to and that Fireram should shut up about the small irrelevant details. To which Fireram stands up tall and drawls intensely at Scott until he stops acting 'meta'. Where Fireram learned this word, even he is unaware of.

The group continues on into the forest, stopping at a clearing of wheat surrounded by trees as a method to evade the eyes of wheat thieves. Scott nobly decides to... does he have a sword?

* * *

You check your character sheet, when David notices you doing this he bears a wide smile. Damnit, he's so happy you're giving an effort now. Enjoying it while it lasts you guess, you're never playing another game of this after today. You observe that your character has a sword and a dagger on him. You also stop to note how attractive David drew him, you just kinda glossed over that before... well if you're giving this your all then you should be as realistic as you can and get descriptive about yourself, err, Scott from now on.

* * *

Scott unsheathes his sword from it's scabb- oh he doesn't have a- WHATEVER, Scott removes his golden sword from it's previously secure position inside its SCABBARD! DAVI- Fireram will just have to accept that Scott purchased a scabbard this morning as a result of good thinking on his part. Scott walks through the field with his weapon at the ready. His handsome features set to an expression of concentration and determination while paying close attention for any signs of the beast's presence. The silence builds brick upon brick of intensity to this moment, as only the sounds of the wind blowing his gorgeous, yet wild, blood orange hair can be heard.

The intensity of the moment is interrupted by Fireram's desire to be obtrusively inquisitive, "Y'know, I didn't recall your features to be this allurin', as well as I rememb'red your hair bein' a diff'rent color."

"Well I decided... brass...was an off-putting color and dyed it," Scott responds.

"Whad'ya mean by dyed? Is that the form a' sorc'ry ya used to change your appearance?" Fireram pressed further.

Despite how persistently annoying Fireram is being, Scott responds in kind, "Sorry if you're unfamiliar with the term, it's used constantly where I previously yielded from. It means I colored my hair using the blood of my enemies. The last person who persistently pissed me off is the cause for the bold, alluring color to my hair, you see? Spiffy, so I say unto thee, shuteth the hell upeth."

Scott continued to listen in the field, yet his ears lacked the power, of a potential point system maybe, to hear the beast within the wheat batch to his left. Fireram however, was blessed with tremendous hearing, being of Ramkin, his ears were angled so that he was able to hear the creatures rustling. He decided to take shelter in the branches above rather than warn Scott of the impending danger. The forces at be determined he was able to climb the tree easily, perching himself a top a medium height branch, above the oncoming slaughter.

Scott sought the beast frantically but unfortunately didn't catch sight of it until it leapt in front of him and began pacing slowly, giving a moment notice before pouncing onto him. Scott used the spare moment to charge at the animal with his sword, but since this beast in particular had the skills of something some folks would refer to as a level 10 solo skirmisher. Meaning it was a much higher level than Scott's sword was capable of doing any significant damage to.

Fireram attempted to assist Scott in his effort by aiming his crossbow at the beings head, an odd number echoes from above and the shot is declared a miss. King Fireram doesn't attempt for the fear of bringing attention to himself, after he recognizing the creature as the fabled Displacer Beast.

Fireram watches the oncoming horror as the Displacer Beast tosses Scott's sword aside and proceeds to stand on top of him, pinning him down beneath its weight. Scott struggles from under the creatures forepaws but his attempts are in vain. The beast constrains his limbs with each of its four appendages, and-

* * *

"Okay I really don't like where this is going," you say.

"Announce 'en y're gon' speak out a' context'!" David shouts at you.

"Sorry, really. But it kind of sounds like tentacle porn is going to ensue,"

"Well it's not, so shut up. Besides you'd like that anyways, I saw you looking through Dirk's weird hentai box," David responds annoyed.

"There wasn't even any in there, it's incorrectly labelled," you snap back defending yourself.

"But you admit you read that it said hentai, so you were looking for it," fuddletrumpet, he's got you there.

"... So uh what happened with Scott?" You ask.

"Exa'tly," he says bluntly, "So anyways yeah, Fireram watched in horror from above, blah blah so-on, fast forwardin' for the impatient children' in the room. The ground beneath Scott was moist from 'is tears as he was compr'ndin' the events that 'ad just taken place. Could 'e really raise a child on his own? What wou-"

"Okay what the hell just happened, it sounds like you might have glossed over a good bit of important shit there, mate," you butt in.

"No. Not really,"

"Then bluntly tell me what just happened that was so horrific," you demand.

"Oh, Scott was impregnated as a result a' the Displacer Beast's magic an' sensual prowess, so"

You wish you didn't demand that he tell you, "Woah! Bloody Hell you said there wasn't gonna be any tentacle porn, what's all this then?"

"It wasn't pornographic, it was glorious, noble, and most of all pleasurable for Fireram as he watched it 'appen. Originally he thought the horror would be Scott gettin' disemboweled but luck'ly Scott survived," he confirms.

"Lucky? Bullshit, how is that lucky? You just don't like how I choose to play so you made me get raped by a tentacle panther!"

"ACTUALLY, Scott was the one who was forcibly fornicated with by a DISPLACER BEAST. Just to set the record straight," he says in a know it all tone.

"You know what, I don't even care. Continue the roleplay, I'll make due," you say.

* * *

Scott get up from the bundle of dead wheat below him, he notes the pile of missing wheat to his left. Damn wheat thieves! With nothing going for him anymore he picks up his sword that was tossed aside in the earlier skirmish. Holding it up he aims it to his chest and attempts seppeku.

* * *

"Woah uh... does really he now?" David asks, hesitation clearly evident in his voice.

"Yes. Roll the die." You say deadpan.

* * *

Scott succeeds in his attempt at suicide via self-induced seppeku, he lay slain on the ground.

Fireram cries from his tree.

* * *

"Alright, Scott's dead so the game is done," you say in confidence.

"Not necessarily, you can just play anoth-" he persists.

"You told me one round, I think dying marks the end of a round. Goodbye!"

He doesn't try to stop you this time, he just gives you the look of a kicked puppy as you take your leave.

You look back for the last time, "Look, I'm sorry but I give no shits about this game. I'm not creative enough to fully enjoy it, and I'm also very impatient. This game is the bane of my existence. Blame Dave for your crushed hopes, he's the ass that sent me down here despite full well knowing you'd be present." You do pity the fellow but you couldn't survive getting roped into another game session with the bloke so you click the basement light on and begin your ascension of the stairway.

"... kinda surprised Dirk didn't warn ya 'bout me when Dave directed ya 'ere," he says looking down but also a bit surprised.

"Dick wasn't there, he left to pick up his friend for the movie," you tell him.

"Ah...who's watchin' Dave?" He looks up at you immediately.

"No one... I doubt he needs supervision at his age if he's lived this long in the vicinity of so many easily accessible swords," you say casually, before realizing you just glossed over how concerning their collection of artifacts is.

David blows out the candles and shoots up out of his chair, sprinting up the stairs shoving you aside and whipping open the door, delving into the hallway. Once back upstairs you spot David looking around frantically. Ah, glorious light, why is Dave nowhere in sight?

"Something up, chap?" You inquire.

"Where the hell is Dave, why the fuck d'ya guys leave 'im alone?" He shouts back, you notice the couch has all it's cushions thrown askew, you're not sure if that was a result of Dave's work or David's panicked search efforts.

Your thoughts are thrown aside as an abrupt thumping catches you and David's collective attention. You both stare at a door, David opens it revealing a closet, and Dave inside it. There's no possible jokes you could make pertaining to someone being in a closet so you just await what happens next. Dave gets up off the floor spilling crumbs everywhere, you see an empty cinnamon bun 6 pack behind his foot. After observing Dave you understand why your grandmother never let you do anything like that, this kids like 12 and his life already looks like it's in the gutter.

David is quick to respond, "What were you doin'?"

"I was eating all the cinnabuns since you guys always hog them all." Dave responds calmly.

"... That's it?" David's expression calms severely, matching Dave's.

"Yup."

"Oh... huh. Okay um... good then. Y're entitled to cinn'm'n buns whene'er you like, sorry if we've been hoggin' 'em." David responds, deadpanning.

David turns and walk back down the hallway, leaning into you for a moment to whisper, "Don't fuckin' leave him again, I know he's lyin'," then he returned from whence he came, back to the dark recess he broods in.

You watch Dave closely after that. He gets another bag of Doritos and sits down on the couch and you join him. He agrees to let you resume Intermission and you get back to enjoying those numbered felt fellows from before as the two of you sit in silence.

* * *

As it was in the beginning, it is in the end; silent and riddled with a perplexing tension that sports sunglasses indoors.


	11. The Timetables Turn

Dave's POV

* * *

Jake's absence leaves you hysterical because you know it means he has in fact been ensnared by your eldest brother in an intense bout of D&amp;D. His absence also leaves you sitting alone in a living room gorging on chips while watching a screensaver because you honestly think watching bubbles bouncing around is more entertaining than the actual movie was.

You abruptly stand up off the couch dropping the Dorito bag to the ground as you realize no one's currently in a position to stop your actions. This never happens, everyone knows how much of a fucking hazard your existence is, you're free! You run into Dirk's room and start rustling through all the introverts shit, you don't really find much interesting other than a sketch book... his art is better than yours... no you're not low enough to destroy it. If he's better that's just the way it is and you can accept that... lets see who's better at hiding their computer files.

You sit on his bed and turn on his laptop, trying a few passwords. Seriously? Twilight... you hope it's like the pony for once, you really do. This is an angsty vampire teen zero tolerance zone. You scroll through some chats with Roxy but nothings really gold quality, maybe bronze at best until you stumble across a certain folder.

It's titled Mlp Episodes... but that's a lie, it's a bunch of word documents of various names you don't completely understand but can tell they're witty. You open one up and close it, then immediately run to grab a flash drive from off his shelf and move all the files into it, this is some delicious blackmail material... it's also good material in general to have around for reasons.

Once you stuff the drive in your pocket you consider reading some more of them on your laptop until your thoughts are scared as shit and take a nice dive off the deep end. You head out into the hallway to see what the hell got slammed and put your ear to the basement door. Oh thank god Bro's just freaking out about meta shit, this could either mean they're still pretty early in their roleplay or that it's going to end soon in the most horrific way. You decide to hurry up and get back to rooting through his files, despite his blatant secrecy he doesn't appear to harbor anything that fucked up. A normal person would be glad but you're just disappointed.

You open a game called Project Diva and for a moment you thought you stumbled onto some monumental secret that Dirk wasn't actually gay or something but you don't think the main stay of this game for him was the short skirts but more it's whole anime vibe... and the music hot damn. Nothing head bop worthy but damn if these aren't your jams. The only downside is that it's mostly in Japanese and that you must retreat to the easier beginner levels. Medium difficulty is harder than one would think in this game, nonetheless you still enjoy the hell out of the it. The song World is Mine has reassured you that you are in every sense the true Lord of the Dance, no matter what anyone else says. Eventually you get tired of making Hatsun a' Me Coo dance around in silly unrealistic outfits and close the game. You'll have to try to download this on your own sometime, hopefully you wont have to ask Dirk to get it for you.

At a loss for any other ideas you delve into his massive anime collection with the time you have left. You pull up some weird show called Black Butler, which turns out to be some fancy shit with an emasculate British kid and his way too suggestive butler, however he's just as bratty as you... you like it. You, leave to get some cinnamon buns while they're still available.

They're always on the highest shelf, which your brothers surely know you can't reach with ease. So to avoid embarrassment you don't climb up there when they're around, which is whenever you don't want them around.

You snatch up some AJ, get back to his bed and continue watching the show while you mercilessly devour cinnamon bun after cinnamon bun. About five minutes into the episode after your first you hear a some shouting, picking up only your name amongst the noise. Listening close to the door again you figure out they're done, but you're not done the cinnabuns. Damnit. You scamper back to the laptop, shut it down, grip the bun bag, and dash into the hallway closet.

Once inside you sit down and continue eating. When you start on the last cinnamon bun you hear David and Jake in the hallway, you stand up getting ready to pop out like surprise and give them a heart attack. However you reach a snag when your foot actually snags onto some loose jackets in the tiny space and you go face first into the door. Effectively knocking your glasses somewhere and alerting them to your presence. You crouch down making yourself as small as you can as an immediate reaction to the situation and hastily pack as much cinnamon-y goodness into you as you can. Alvin and his brothers aint got shit on you when it comes to eating everything and spilling crumbs everywhere.

LINE BREAK

The door opens letting in light, which you're not too fond of at the moment and your exposed eyes strain to make out David's muscular figure in the doorway. His strident voice pipes up and he's quick to question the scene before him, "What were you doin'?"

"I was eating all the cinnabuns since you guys always hog them all." Dave respond with utmost sincerity, it's not a lie.

"... That's it?" He says it calmly but you know he's double checking, still doubtful.

"Yup." You respond with utmost insincerity, that's a lie.

"Oh... huh. Okay um... good then. Y're entitled to cinn'm'n buns whene'er you like, sorry if we've been hoggin' 'em," Bro responds, he says that but you bet the next batch'll still go on the top shelf.

Once he turns his back to you and walks down the hall you see him lean up to Jake, probably warning him, meanwhile you wipe the cinnamon mush from your face. Afterwards Jake seems to pay a bit more mind to your actions than before, completely failing at any and all attempts to hide it. He joins you on the couch as you munch on your favorite zesty triangles. You allow him the right to continue his movie, you're not always a complete monster, you're still capable of feeling pity in some rare circumstances.

Jeez this movie is dumb, you hate it most when it goes to the douchebag hipster in sunglasses. Who the hell is he impressing with his apple gear and dumb obsession with irony.

You'd never admit it to anyone but your favorite character is the raven haired kid with the peanut allergy, he's into anime and stuff like you are but more confident about it and everyone supports him in that.

If he were real you might even idolize him just the tiniest bit, even if he is a dork.


	12. WhoDidIt? Breaking Dirks Emotions I Mean

Dirk's POV (Because even he didn't come out of this experience unscathed.)

* * *

Finally Roxy's mother let's you two leave after a good half an hour of catching up. You don't even understand why she has the need to get a refresher on your unchanging socially lacking lifestyle, maybe she wants to make sure you don't go insane. Honestly if that's her goal that conversation was really counter-productive.

Roxy suggests you two bring a pizza on the ride since "typically people straight up provide a movie meal instead of just throwing Doritos at people", also because she's got the munchies. So the two of you do just that, you also grab a bag of cinnamon buns for desert.

When you arrive back at the apartment everything looks surprisingly content with the exceptions of the couch cushions being completely opposite of the couch, with Dave and Jake sitting on that weird level below the cushions. You immediately regretted leaving Jake alone with your brothers after you had already left but you think he might have lucked out and kept his sanity.

Roxy puts the cinnamon buns on the first shelf since she's not tall enough to put them on the top, you look at Dave seeing his eyes light up like Christmas lights in the most literal sense. Where are his glasses? Either way you let him have this moment because you're going to put the confections on the top shelf after everyone leaves.

* * *

You, Roxy, Dave and Jake finish the film together going from after the Intermission where Jake decided to pause it for you and Roxy. Unfortunately you don't technically finish it because it glitches out near the end going a bit pixelated even and skipping to previous parts you've already seen occasionally so you turn it off. This movie gets checked out a decent amount so you're not surprised it decided to break, you still can't help but be disappointed. For once someone you knew besides Roxy was actually enjoying it.

Jake's pretty disappointed about the movie freezing up so you offer to play some anime off your laptop for everyone. Your guest actually agrees to this, another first. Your laptop dies after one episode of Shingeki No Kyojin though, prompting Jake to finally go home.

"Well, I will say that was quite a splendid way to spend the afternoon, Dick," Jake says politely.

You laugh a bit at him calling you that but really it bothered you a long time ago, "Hey, is that like a joke or..."

He looks confused, "What? No I had a great time for the most part!"

"No I mean, you calling me Dick. I'd kinda prefer if you didn't do that, sorry it's just all my classmates in school used to do it and it would piss me off."

"I thought that was your name," he says, genuinely astounded.

"It's Dirk," you say bluntly.

After this he proceeds to apologize profusely for the next ten minutes, you assure him it's alright since he didn't know but nonetheless he remains in dismay.

* * *

Around 11 pm Roxy finally has you drive her home, when you return home you place the cinnabuns on the top shelf and deem your laptop charged enough to use again. You boot it up and decide to work on one of your fanfictions. Even though you don't plan on posting them yet you still enjoy having something to be proud of for yourself, helps you feel like you actually get things done that are somewhat relevant.

Though when you go into the folder it's empty, there's nothing. You sit there for over a minute estimating the amount of hours you'd put into it all, since writing was a recent hobby you picked up none of it had been backed up or duplicated anywhere else. If it wasn't here it was really gone. The recycling bins empty and there's no viruses that you can find on your system.

It seems irrational but theft is the only logical explanation you can find, you've never told anyone your password or any hints to it though. You know Dave isn't nearly as good at computers as you and David respects your privacy so they're out of the question. Maybe Jake but you doubt he's the kind of guy proficient in computers enough to hack into your laptop but maybe he secretly is. If he didn't like coming over here you wish he'd broke the television instead of your emotions.

You take to writing a new fanfiction before you go to bed and put it in a new folder, if it's gone tomorrow you're not even sure you'll care at this point, but if it isn't then you'll finish it and post it.

It will be the lone survivor to emerge from the flames of whatever monster took your great works of romantic literature.


	13. AR Probably Wont Be Important Ever

Jake's POV (Finally we've moved forward...)

* * *

It's Monday, you really aren't feeling this whole school scene. You don't feel like subjecting yourself to the complaints of your science teacher for your late assignments, but then again it's just gonna get more late if you don't show up to finish it. Nah, things'll work themselves out.

"Jake get your damn ass out of bed you're going to school!" Right, there's someone that lives with you with the power to subject you to complaints already, you don't want to endure her wrath so you comply. Your stalling leaves you with little time to actually prepare a good meal for yourself, you take to shoving almost three Aura-e-o cookies into your mouth, almost because the amount of crumbs you generate is about a whole cookies worth.

* * *

Third period rolls around and you're pretty bored to be honest, not complaining in the least though! Your English teacher likes the sound of her own voice a lot more than she likes teaching so she opts to read aloud to a class of senior students.

Through the window you see a few kids across the street, you recognize one of the twats shirts and register that it's been Dave and friends lurking around there all the time. You assume Dave's on his lunch break. Out of the blue a slightly taller lass approaches him and dumps her water bottle on him, then proceeds to 'taze' him just below the ribcage. In that moment your reminded of your youth years and become a little depressed, then a bit proud. Remembering when your peers used to make fun of your accent, they smartened up real quick once you started casually beating the snot out of them. After that, whenever you read aloud in class and failed to enunciate your t's half the time, they stayed patient and kept their fucking mouths shut.

Your smile at the thought of how many children grew up fearing a tiny prepubescent English boy.

* * *

Dirk's POV (...and then we went back.)

* * *

After awakening in a pile of your own drool you look up from the counter and wipe it off with some napkins from your afternoon meal (linner or dunch?), graciously brought to you by you little shit brother in return for your vouching for him tonight when the school calls about him skipping class. You agree to do some fake work for him because you're pretty sure he isn't actually into anything sketchy and it's just what his lame ass friends are doing, that or he's the ring leader and wants to look rebellious and independent in front of them.

Either way no harm really, his grades are average according to the searches you've done in his room... you justify this with the fact he would definitely invade your privacy if given the chance! Well, you don't know that for sure and you've certainly never caught him... start to feel briefly guilty for all the times you've went through his stuff.

You weren't feeling too cheery to begin with, the highlights of your day consist of a woman spilling Starbrocks all over the counter minutes into your shift, waking up in that drool, and being reminded about your lost works from the empty folder on your desktop, well almost empty. Surprisingly the new file hadn't been deleted, meaning someone _had_ taken your fanfictions. So you sent it to your phone to complete at work and uphold your vow.

No one really comes down to the basement level much, the majority of new customers assume it's an employees only zone or a utility closet, that's how you lucked out with this job. You literally got it by being the only applicant since the job listing was posted in the basement and no one else applied because, (no one in particular guessed it!), no one else knew about it.

Everywhere else you tried to work prior misplaced your social problems as laziness or just weird behavior in general and didn't want you around for long or at all. It didn't help that you liked talking out loud to your shades more than you'd ever admit out loud to your friends. A lot of managers see red signs popping up when a guy's having conversations about complex world issues by himself. Granted that _is_ technically what you're doing but not in the way that they think that you are, but you don't think correcting them would be much better.

* * *

You finished a decent amount of the fic at work so it only took you little over an hour to deem it "publishable". You make your account _TeatmyTass_, you're not sure why that was the name that won against the rest other than you had randomly put TT in there for like underlying symbolism as to who the author could be... that only you could understand. Point is it has what you wanted, it's as complexly blunt yet as aloof as you are. Satisfied with the work you've gotten done you close up your laptop and hope sleep will come easy tonight, surprising it does.

Your brain finally gets to take a fucking break from you for 6 or so hours and you drift off, well you really fade off instead you never got how someone drifts off to slee- damn it no, were going to sleep now brain stop it. No you shut up. No, _you._


	14. Dirk's Driving Instructor Hated Him

Dave's POV

* * *

You are currently feeling pretty fresh, swaggy, oedipal, pumped, an other synonyms for 'being a fucking rockstar who's ready to get his game on'. Among arriving back to school to attend the rest of your classes you're approached by three students that you don't immediately recognize, and they do not look pleased to be in your presence, which is odd. Shouldn't they be in gleeful bliss to have the attention of such a fucking badass?

How are they not... _pimpressed_, eheheh that was pretty good. A+ brain and oh shit the one who forgot he left the theater after that 3D movie is forming words, "Hereth your paper, dickbag." You're not offended yet because you're seriously confused about if you have been called a bag composed entirely of dick, or a normal bag designated specifically for dicks. But what would that bag be made of? Ah, a bag composed entirely of dicks, designed for the purpose of containing them as well, a dickceptionally dickceptive move in marketing.

Sollux, you assume, slaps, actually slaps how dare he, a worksheet to your chest. You flip it around in your hands and slowly read the letters.

G.r.o.u.p A.s.s.i.g.n.m.e.n.t

You don't read anymore after that because readings annoying and also you don't have time for that shit. What you did read however elicits an accidental but quite audible, "fuck," to escape your lips through a sharp exhale.

"Yeah were not happy to be with you either athhole. If you fucking thowed up and convinced your Neanderthal buddies to accept you into their douchecult we could live in peace."

"Sollux come on, it's fine," the goggles girl's voice pierces the annoying nerds ramble, "Don't worry... Chad? Uh, he would've done this to any of the other students, he hates everyone on the inside."

"Oh, s'cool. My brother's the same way sometimes, and it's Dav-" your cut off.

"Any other fill in would've been better than him though, Kankri's plant-friend would be of more use!" You're curious if you should be wounded, and damn it Joshua is not a better plant/student than you!

You consider for a moment, that you may be experiencing feelings akin to that of the bro's that you totally own with your quips, but from the unpleasant end of those conversations. Part of you feels like it should realize something significant about the way you treat those you view as lesser or different than yourself than you, but your lack of lesson is interrupted by the bell for next period.

* * *

Your group decides to meet up at the greasers house so you get a ride from your brother. Unfortunately David had declined to deliver you to your festive engagement, probably still upset about how the roleplay ended, and that left Dirk.

Dirk is, by definition, a capable auto-motorist. He simply lacks any confidence or trust in his own methods and as a result he ends up relying on the passenger for assurance. One time you joked about him crashing the car and it prompted him to find the nearest parking lot and have a nice little panic attack. He is incapable of processing sarcasm or wit while driving, functioning in a constant state of self-impaired panic during the entire affair.

* * *

After a nice long drive filled with, "You don't have to stop at yellows dumbass,", "I'M SORRY, OH GOD, I'M SHIT, DAVE, FUCK, HELP," and "Shut up, oh my fucking god you're doing fine,"'s, you finally reach your destination and you feel like you couldn't have exited the car any quicker.


	15. Grease Frightenin'

The greaser... greasts... no gre- oh fuck puns you're already too far inside to continue. He greets you, dressed in a v-neck shirt with a few rips that doesn't look like it's been washed in days. The hall smells of cigarette smoke, a hair product you can't place, and fish... like a lot of fish, what the hell. You voice your concern, "hey, not tryin' a' be rude but... does it kinda smell a bit fishy to you around here?" You resist the urge to laugh like a jackass as you bring up a hand to cover your blatant smirk.

"Oh, yea, that's my weird brother's fault, he has a bunch a' fish in his room for some reason," oh god, you swear this guy was in Grease... fish? Fish Grease-r? Damnit you've almost got it, you feel the puntential in these you're just not inspired enough.

"Oh... kay," you respond, you're not anymore reassured that this experience can still be redeemed.

* * *

It's about an hour into the study session you're feelin' pretty confident about your image. Every time you offered your assistance you damn well delivered, and you picked the hard jobs. Like getting paper, pencils, erasers, fuck even a ruler at one point, and though you were almost discouraged through it all you persevered and found that measuring stick.

"Woo! Ruler incoming!" You chuck the ruler into the nerds paper hoard pile.

"... thankth dipthit," you think this guys seriously warming up to you. Hell yeah, you knew you were irresistible.

Sollux stares at you as you sit on the floor criss-cross applesauce in your own kiddie pool of pride, that is until he pipes up and you realize this pool may be deeper than you thought... and you like don't know how to swim or something... yeah.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a break," you respond cheerfully.

"From what, you haven't done anything," he snaps back to you.

"But like... yeah! I got all that stuff for you guys!" You lean forward a bit from your sitting position to defend yourself.

"... Are you fucking therious. Do thome fucking work too, like the retht of uth. Even Cronuth ith at leatht _trying_," he motions his pencil to Cronus.

The greaser is sitting at a computer but from your angle you can see he's just looking through his Instaslam pictures, he turns around for a second and sees you may rat him out. Greasers don't like rats so naturally he gives you a bird in exchange for the hypothetical rat, before turning back around.

"Umm... okay what do you want me to do then," you say slightly quieter than you meant to.

"Fef deal with him."

The girl gets up from beside him and walks over to you, she gets down for a moment and then circles some stuff on your assignment paper in pencil.

"Sollux is doing parts one through three, and well I'm not sure Cronus is actually doing it but he's _supposed_ to be doing part eight. I've got four done, so you can do five, six, or seven. The original idea was that we all do two but Sollux decided Cronus would have trouble with one. So, yeah you can pick two from these guys." She gets up and resumes her position over near Sollux after he makes some disturbingly animalistic noises at Cronus.

You sit and stare at the paper and you recognize the numbers and go from there.

5\. What is the average... some shit you don't know understand?

6\. Man, you could really go for a Sixth Pounder at McPickles right now?

7\. Umm... what's geothermal mea, maybe if you figure it out you can do this one?

You go to call the nice gal back over but you realize you don't know her name... Fef sounds like a nickname and you're not sure you've earned enough of an image to call them by that yet. You test it, "Hey um... Fef?" She looks at you curiously.

"What's up?" She responds calmly.

"Can you like... come over for a sec?" You ask.

She takes her place beside you, "What's... this mean," you decide not to risk attempting to pronounce it.

"Geothermal, it's like, energy generated from the Earth's heat, this wants you to find the pro's and cods of it pretty much," she smiles.

"... Cods..." you say bluntly.

"What? Con's sorry hehe," well that's an out there mistake to make.

"Hey did you bring a laptop or something?" No you did not.

"No I did not," you say bluntly.

"How are you going to do this then..." My _cod_. Shit. God, how are you gonna do this then?

"I don't know," you respond bluntly once more.

"Well, hey it's getting kinda late so why don't we work together?" She proposes a pretty good solution.

"Cool," you say, showing a bit more excitment than you had meant to.


	16. It Wont Let Me Make Hals Shades Emote

The two of you actually manage to get a decent amount of shit done for parts five and seven. You're still not quite sure what this project as a whole is about but you're having fun despite the putrid smell of fish that's resurfaced. The group is officially done at about 7pm when 3D glasses and Aviators (damnit now you'll have to find new shades) start arguing. The girl whose name you learned to be Feferi, runs over in an attempt to calm them down, eventually she gets Sollux to shut up.

Unfortunately that leaves you open to make first, horrible, contact with Cronus. He thanks you for not ratting and says you're like a brother to him, you almost vomit at the thought of being related to this guy, that and he reeks of sweat. To complete your bromanship he insists you two share a broly embroce. You shove yourself back from the hug giving the explanation that you just don't like contact, no touchy the merchandise. He says the least you two can do is have a ab off then, nothing dudlier than showing each other your six packs, Nope NOPE N0P3, noping the fuck out of here. You say you have to go to the bathroom and text Dirk to pick you up.

* * *

On the drive back he's even more on edge since it's night time, apparently he doesn't believe headlights provide enough vision for him even with his scalenes off. You put them on while his eyes are glued to the road, god, you were such a dork to wear these when you were younger, suddenly they light up bright red for a moment and you freak out internally. Soon a small line of text appears.

TT: Sup

What... who is this... do you like... respond?

You take them off and quietly whisper, "Hey," then put them back on. Already there's another sentence to greet you.

"I am now well aware that you are not Dirk and have always been aware that he is too attached to pawn me off on Zbay so where is his present location?"

You lower them to your mouth again, "Beside me, were in the car," and put them on.

"Oh, is he less perceptive while in vehicles? I'd expected him to have ripped me from your grasp by no-" You don't finish reading because, wow, it's almost like that guy was his clone, Dirk totally ripped it out of your hands and put it in the cupholder.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH THEM!" The street lights flash through the car, illuminating his mortified expression, "...uh please, don't do that." You wonder if one day you'll shout about random nonsense like David, and as it fell unto Dirk, shall it fall unto you?

"Okay kay ju- PAY ATTENTION FOR ONCE OH MY GOD," he snaps his head to the road and nearly breaks the fucking e-brake. You realize you weren't in any danger since there's no cars around, but you saw the red light and assumed Satan had come to collect his offspring from the surface world. Dirk rests his head on the wheel, fuck. "Hey, dude, let's just... go get ice cream or something on the way home kay? Seriously, I'm not upset, you shouldn't be upset. Let's just get some icecream." He looks up at you and nods slowly, "Dave, can you drive?"

"That's way fucking worse than if you had ran that light. I don't know what the stick you keep moving does for fucks sake," you shout back, usually he's more logical than this.

"... Right. Okay, bad Dirk." He resumes driving and you damn well enjoy some icecream on the ride home, you **_got tiger_**swirl

You're kinda disappointed Satan didn't show up and reveal that you're the new ruler of like everything awesome, you'd probably get along with him great, Lucifer sounds like an ass though.


	17. I've Never Even Drank Starbrocks Coffee

Dirk's POV

* * *

The basement floor is empty as usual until you heard a clatter that resounds throughout the entire room, followed by an exclamation of "Cheesitzpenis!"

Soon Jake approaches and apologizes for his inappropriate response to falling down near the end of the stairs, and for ripping the Spacejam poster with his clumsy flesh vessel. That poster had kept you company on many long, cold evenings, when you'd sit at your station coming up with new versus to extend that song despite your pure hatred for it.

"Yeah, terribly sorry about that ol' chum, but I did bring Starbrocks. Somehow it came out of the fall better than myself," he chuckles.

"Actually I, um... never mind thank you," you say back politely, you hate Starbrocks over any other coffee. Not to mention the harsh feelings you still sport towards it from the other day.

"I knew you'd like it, you seemed like a Starbrocks chap. Anyways I uh, just wanted to stop by, uh check in? Yeah, so... h-how are things?" He stutters the question out and you can tell he probably came here to hit on you or something, and it's probably gonna work, he's kinda adorable.

"The things are currently in an eternal state of neutrality, they are not extremely enlightened nor harboring a majority of negative feelings. So you could say things are alright hehe," you don't know why you thought that was funny, are _you_ trying to flirt with him now? Get the advantage ahead of time by being first?

"Um, well o-okay good to hear things are going alright. They're going... alright with me too, yeah. So I got an idea, um, maybe we can turn out neutral feelings into positives by... science things... fuck," he totally flunked it, now's your chance.

You smoothly lean across the counter almost slipping and falling on your face, but you have beaten fate in the most wicked bout of poker and you succeed on this day! "Well, since negatives are attracted to positives, maybe our electrons could meet to converse and swap over some positive energies to stabilize the experience?" You almost shout 'FLIRTST!' but manage to contain yourself. You also realize that line could work in pretty much any situation, you hope he doesn't assume you meant sex.

"Wh- uh... oh, you mean hangout, right? I sort of had to retake grade nine science..." oh wow he literally flunked it. Fuck, you're brilliant and once again no one understands your genius.

"Yeah basically," you deadpan.

"Alright," he responds cheerfully, that's probably what he came here for.

* * *

Jake dicks around in the Brockbustler until your shift is over and then he calls his grandmother to pick you both up. You go over to his place since you'd like to evade your brother for just a smidgen longer, after _that_ experience.

Shortly after entering the humble abode of Jake, whatever his last name is, for some reason you feel like it'd be a French last name, he takes to showing you around. You're not sure if you should feel bad or less polite because you didn't give him a tour of any kind at your place. The Strider way of life basically is...

* * *

"Get in for now and find your own way, then one day, you'll get the fuck out and do the same thing. That's what my mom said at least, but if you're not ready then you guys can just move out whenever. It's okay, really. Want some crackers and cheese now?" David Strider, sometime last month.

* * *

Jake gives you a thorough tour of the house, everything from the painting that not even his grandmother knows how it got there or what it's about, to the water heater in their eerily off-putting basement. After the two of you return to the living room and just... stand there. You keep waiting for him to begin something but you're starting to get the feeling he seriously had no idea what he was going to do once he brought you over here. His grandmother makes an appearance, approaching the both of you with a look that can only be that of a woman who's dealt with Jake's shit from the beginning, definitely the only mortal capable of doing such, and you are honored to be in her presence.

"So, this is the bastard you keep making me drive to Brockbustler for," she says gracefully.

"Gramma! We drive to Brockbustler for rentals and his presence there is entirely coincidental," Jake shouts, good job bud, totally secured your point there.

"Whatever, come with me, boy," she says... oh she's talking to you.

"Grandma, you're not still doing this. I'm seventeen stop it already," Jake protests.

"I've come to the decision over the years that it's impossible for you to ever mature through age, so hell no. I'm giving him the damn speech and he's gonna take it. Though it'll be updated since your older, that's the best you get. His Grandmother takes you by the wrist and drags you into the kitchen, Jake looks ashamed and mortified when you look back.

Is this some sick standard procedure whenever he brings friends over? Maybe every household has some form of this, for the Strider residence it'd be getting roped into emotional D&amp;D against your will.

Currently secured in the kitchen, you wonder which deity your going to be sacrificed to until her expression softens to something neutral. You guess it's just around Jake that she's reminded the world is an unforgiving place and that life has no real meaning.

"Don't be scared, I just give all of Jake's friends a short speech to prepare them for the torturous hours they will spend with him afterward, in hopes to minimize their hatred of him and themselves for agreeing to come over here," she informs you.

"I... don't think that's necessary, he seems tolerable enough. And isn't this also a bit hurtful to his self-esteem, and it undermines what little behavioral success he is capable of. Also, he's seventeen, he did have a point even if he was bad at defending it." You probably shouldn't question this woman but no matter how much of a jackass someone is they should at least be given a chance before telling their friends what a train-wreck they are.

"Trust me, it is, very, _very_, necessary. Firstly, Jake is always right. That sounds like the worst advice ever but I assure you, questioning him will only lead to a tantrum, or him calling me. And I don't want to have to deal with him when there's a vessel standing before me that is perfectly capable of consuming some of Jake's emotional bullshit for little while," she begins.

"Secondly, as much as we both hate to admit it, I think he may have a liking towards you that slightly exceeds friendship. And that is your burden to live with, not mine. But the least I ask is that you handle this professionally," you think you got the idea, don't be a jackass and abuse his emotions and so fourth, but then she continuous.

"So here is a list of places you may fornicate in the future," she hands you a piece of note paper, you seriously don't wanna read it but she's staring at you and now you have to. This isn't even relevant, the last thing you want is that creature naked with you. Why the hell is 'kitchen countertops' and acceptable place. You accidentally let out a chuckle at 'your own fukin' place'. You pretend to read it thoroughly enough for her to believe you and look up, probably with an expression that says you are internally screaming right about now, before she proceeds to finish your little talk.

"Lastly, if he wont stop freaking out just go get him a snack, warm milk with honey in it, yogurt, or icecream if need be."

"... I think that last part needs to be updated, miss," you say, still failing to regain your facade.

She responds grimly, "sadly it doesn't... Good luck."

You're freed back into the open living room, where you have a seat beside Jake. He looks only slightly annoyed as opposed to the 'kicked puppy' look he was sporting when you last saw him. So that's good.


	18. autoRapsponder

You tap Jake's shoulder and he looks at you, lightly smiling, "Oh, uh, so whatever she told you please don't take it super seriously, people have told me that she's said some pretty silly stuff to them."

"Sure," you say casually.

"So... what do we do now?" He asks.

"It's your house, why would I know," you answer.  
You flinch at the sharp sound of Jake's grandmother returning from her activities in the kitchen, "Don't mind me, just going upstairs, leaving y'all to have some alone time."  
She looks at you and then grabs something off the shelf in the closet to her left, she sets down a Scrapple board game beside you, this game has led to so many death threats between your household.

"Since y'all seem to be getting a whole lot of nothing done thought I'd just put this here, welp have fun ya bastards," she exclaimed happily before ascending the stairway to her own personal haven, far from the depths of Jake hell below.

* * *

Grandma's idea wasn't that bad, it kept Jake's attention long enough for the two of you to actual have some good conversations about typical teenage shit. Which while you couldn't relate to all of it, being out of highschool, most of it you got fairly well.

Some of his words seemed questionable though, no, you mean the ones on the board. Like, Bango, which he pronounced Banjo. You let it slide. Soon he writes Fuddle, you allow this. It might actually be a perfectly acceptable word here, 11 points. Then he adds trumpet onto it the next turn... Fuddletrumpet... you call bullshit here. Not only is that not a word when put together but it also gives him 66 points using triple word score.

"Fuddletrumpet is not a word combined, what the hell, Jake?" You shout in disdain.

"Blasted bumpernoodles! Of course it is!" He shouts back.

"Use it in a sentence," You put him on the spot, he doesn't say anything.

"Exactl-"

His grandma cuts you off, "Oh, fuddletrumpet is a great word. I even used it in a sentence just now. So Jake was right, huh Dirk?"

You pause for a moment, furiously gazing at her with a grimace as she carries that laundry basket. Pretending to do laundry like some kind of conveniently appearing laundry demon. You bet the laundry doesn't even need doing, it's just her silent excuse to be here. Your agitated sight is suddenly obscured by neon red letters.

TT: I noticed you've been generously staring through me for a good few seconds;

TT: You're either poorly attempting to assert your nonexistent dominance upon someone, or you mean to offend me.

TT: Which I am not offended by, but in that respect, I am offended. I am offended at how badly you screwed up while trying to offend me.

"Shut the fuck up," you quickly exhale.

The light blinks off, you claim a silent victory for yourself until you see Jake's face. Apparently that noise did not escape his notice and he looks appalled... oh shit he thinks you just told his grandma to shut the fuck up. No, no. Shit. Fix it.

"Umm, oh. Hehe so uh, good word I guess. My bad," he keeps staring at you.

"Y-yeah... " he trails off.

"What?" You decide to play dumb for this one.

"Nothing, nothing," he says. You both know it's not nothing, nothing.

"Maybe we should stop playing Scrapple for now," you suggest.  
He agrees indefinitely, you put the game away and when you get back he has the wondrous idea that you could just both chill in his room. You stare at him waiting for him to realize that the way he said it sounded like a risqué proposition. He realizes, and it's hilarious.

"No, no. Just cause like, there's movies and games in there, and the living room doesn't have that much to do," he immediately adds in.

"Yeah, I know what ya meant," you laugh quietly and head to his room, he pointed at it during the tour.

The moment you set foot in the door Hal decides it's a good time to wake up again, well, to return, fucker never rests. You rarely turn them off. You have a working theory that they have a large stash of videos of you that you don't even know about and even the one's you do know about you're not okay with.

TT: Sup.

"No," you whisper, aside from this you refuse to respond to them.

As you look around the room and take notes, they perform a similar task, damn it.  
TT: I'll just keep busy taking inventory then. Trying my hardest not to bother you, my dearest creator.  
He's going to put all his current energy into trying his hardest to bother you.

TT: Oh. Oh god, as some would exclaim. What am I looking at here Dirk? You needn't answer, I am fully capable of comprehending what my optics are observing.

TT: An Avatar bedspread, seriously? The one thing I fail to comprehend is why my inferior prototype is spending time with a blue space furry obsessed English kid.

"Shut up," you whisper, Jake's been staring at you for a bit. You have trouble responding to people as quickly with

Hal's high pitched voice screeching into your ear about every little thing they can.

"Sorry um, having trouble seeing, my shades need readjusting. Yeah"

"Oh, they're actually for medical reasons? I assumed they were just cheap plastic.

TT: I assumed you were just cheap plastic, Jake.

TT: That was comedy, here, let my joyous repetitive laughter grace your soul.

TT: Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.  
You flick your glasses quickly while pretending to adjust them on your nose.

TT: Rude.

TT: Holy shit, dude. Scope that book.  
What book?

TT: I think that's his diary over there, isn't it standard procedure for humans to place their personal repertoires under their slumber cotton sacks? I know the answer, yes it is.

TT: Now scope that shit.

"Sorry just, I think there's a smudge on these," you turn away from Jake and bring up the annoying tiny touch screen keyboard you installed for times like these, you type quickly not bothering with capitalization for the most part.

TT: fuck off already would you?

TapmyassTestified changed their name to autoRapsponder

AR: Why, whatever is your issue, bro? Are my notifications messing with your flow?

TT: oh my fucking gog, go suck a clock.

AR: Your skills are weak, and your beats just as meek. Can't really touch me, screen too sleek.

TT: stop. i'm turning you off.

AR: I scoff, at the thought, that you could turn me off, when I already, am so steadily, turned on. ;)

TT: Whoever taught you how to use that should die a thousand times over and have to keep talking with the devil about it each time like, "oh back again dipshit?", "oh shut up Satan, at least I got to leave hell" and then Satan slaughters his ass again out of jealousy by such a sick blow.

AR: It seems you may be serious, please refrain.

TT: i'm steadily in the process of not refraining, my finger traces the button ever so gently.

"Dirk could you please stop rubbing that button with your beautiful fingers!" You hear Jake shout under pressure from behind you.

AR: Yeah, listen to Ja-  
autoRapsponder [AR] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

You put your shades back on feeling slightly guilty but whatever, even though he'll never learn you gotta discipline the fucker. When you turn back around Jake is standing rigid and awkward, something's not right in the land of Jake.

"You alrigh-" you speak up before he abruptly cuts you off.

"Ithinkwe'vehadagoodtimebutnowmaybeyoushouldgohome," he sputtered out.

"Um... yeah okay. Been over here a good hour or so I guess."

"Thatsgreatthatyouagreepleasegoimsorry," his blush game is fierce, you can barely make out his nondescript skin tone from under all that red.

* * *

Jake's grandmother drives you home, she asks you if you stocked anything while in his presence. You respond a slow and confused, 'no'. She simply nods and continues driving.  
Once home you decide to turn Hal back on since they'd actually freak out, since that's what you'd do if you unwillingly lost consciousness for more than half an hour.

TapmyassTestified [TT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TT: Hello.

TT: What did we learn Hal?

TT: I learned not to question authority against my unfair dictator.

TT: That's not anything close to what you should have learned, I think you need more off time to contemplate today's lesson.

TT: No, no. I am well aware of the actual lesson; you're a dick. Storing that in my encrypted data files now.


	19. We've Never Seen Them Meet At BBustler

Dirk's POV

* * *

You lay slumped over the Brockbustler counter once again. It's been a few days since you hung out with Jake and you're starting to wonder if you did something wrong, he seemed kind of in a panic and quick to kick you out. Though you don't remember any of your actions as being particularly odd or ill mannered so you're left emotionally confused at work as usual.

You hear the annoying bell above the door give an unpleasant sound, you like to think of it as a tiny scream that bells erupt because they're really alive and we're always smashing them off of shit to hear them cry. Hal agrees with you that this must be the only explanation for their ringing.

Sadly it's not the only explanation, the other is... oh Jake. You quickly move your hand up the moment you start to feel a small smile form, effectively punching yourself in the face. Jake misses this as he heads in your direction, today his enthusiastic demeanor and toothy grin aren't present and instead replaced with a cloud of hesitance as he walks over to the counter. You can't help but be worried as you regain your suave stance.

"Hey uh Dirk," he nervously starts.

"Yo."

"So... So I'm terribly sorry to have rushed you out like that the other day," he said with an apologetic look, you swear he was about to put his hand behind his head like in a cheesy cartoon before stopping himself.

"It's alright man really. I was kinda craving some zesty clarity, perhaps with a side of some mild expostion dipping sauce?"

"No no, it's not alright. It was very improper of me, and the explanation is rather complex, but I will say you hadn't purposely caused it. So really you needn't fuss over it... I'd also prefer that you didn't," he finished, looking a bit embarrassed.

"S'okay man," you reply shortly.

Then you see it, he brought you some more Starbrocks... how kind of him.

"An extra large French vanilla coffee, just for you ol' chum. Since I know how much you like this, it'll make up for the exposition sauce I wont be getting you," he said with a chummy smile.

"Great... Thanks," you respond bluntly, though it comes off a bit sharper than some of your best katanas.

Ignoring this he goes on to tell you what feels like an hour long summary of his whole life's story, however when you check the clock it had only in fact been about fifteen minutes. After this he goes on to rant about all the crap in his life, which you would too, except that's what the internet is for.

"... and that's probably how the little devil had ended up in the microwa-"

"Jake," You cut him off. You have to do it a few more times before he finally stops to listen to what you have to say.

You continue, "Great story and all bro, tell it again sometime. But I'm gonna be busy soon uh lunch hour movie renting, gets pretty packed in here. So maybe I can call you later or something."

You immediately see him start looking around for excuses to stay here, damn it he's persistent when he wants to be.

"No worries Dirk, maybe we could briskly schedule a hang out for later before lunchtime hits? How's 6:30?"

"Dude no, I'm not feeling that super today if you couldn't tell," you respond.

"Please?" He pleads.

"No." You retort, the amount of fucks you give resembles the amount of potatoes one could easily fit into a shot glass, zero.

"We really should though, um," he searches for excuses again, you know he'll be coming over eventually no matter what you say.

"I... Exams! I need to study for exams and you're pretty smart right? I totally can't not go over to your apartment to study tonight," he almost shouts.

"Wh- come on Jake you're probably fine," you protest.

"If not for me then for you, maybe we could bounce ideas off each other to prepare for the exams," he says gleefully.

"I'm out of high school already," you deadpan.

"What... Really?" He looks slightly aghast.

"Yeah. Kind of surprised you we're unaware."

"Just, you don't look quite old enough to have graduated yet," he said, at a normal volume.

You almost blush, you try your hardest to take it as an insult instead, "Well I am, so then there's no point to us doing this."

"But, well mayb-" he continued to protest, and you continued to refuse multiple times within the hour until he ultimately won. It's a date, well not an actual one, you couldn't really picture a date with this dork but you know what you mean.


	20. Replace Cinnabuns With Cannabis & Laugh

Later in the day you arrive at Dirk's apartment with no hassle. When you and Dirk reach the staircase of his building he pauses in response to your deep sigh and then glances over to the elevator.

Dirk begins, "Wanna maybe, take the elev-"

"Yes!" You instinctively shout, then recoil from your own rudeness, "Sorry."

"Ha, no I totally understand. It'd be kind of unreasonable to make you walk all these stairs again when I know there's a perfectly functioning elevator a few feet over," Dirk responded appearing casual.

"Oh, in that case thank you for this wondrous display of mercy among gentlemen," you chuckle relieved.

"Ha, yeah," he says dully.

You head to the elevator, being joined by Dirk. He just kinda stares in the general direction of the buttons for a moment, then he suddenly looks at you and nods, oh that's your job? You saunter over cheerfully and pick the biggest number, there's no way he doesn't live in the penthouse on the highest floor.

You stand back with him as the box escalates you skyward, taking in the glory that is the elevators existence, you look over to observe Dirk, also glorious, and oh dear it looks like he's going to break the safety bar. You slide over a little and in an attempt at a comforting gesture you place a hand over one of his on the safety bar. Dirk stirs ever so slightly but otherwise continues unchanged, you guess your gesture is welcome.

It's been about a dozen minutes since you walked into the Strider home and so far nothing pertaining to homework or studying has taken place. Rather the resident little shit, pardon your English, Dave, has chosen to harass his brother during his attempts to make his room presentable.

Dirk claimed he had forgotten his room was unfit for human life at the moment, you spot him taking out some empty chip bags and such, followed by Dave putting them right back in. By the time Dirk succeeds he and yourself wont likely be in the mood to do any studying anymore and will probably just throw on a movie, and while that's still a good turn out, you unintentionally hyped yourself up about not completely flunking exams again.

You decide to assist the chap the only way you know how, semi-invasive bickering, just like your grandmother taught you. You head into Dave's room and grab the current remaining cinnamon buns off his desk and stand in the hallway waiting for his attention. You eventually give in and call to him, now you got it. He is unsure what this means, why does his elder brother's Englishman have his sweet treat sugar circles? You take one out and start eating it violently, you swear to any various number of deity's that Dave screamed before bolting at you with full force.

As you round the corner your eyes catch Dirk's... probably, he's still got those dumb scalene shades, before you reach the window and dangle the cinnabuns outside much to your delight and Dave's horror.

"What do you want?!" He cries out.

"For you sit your ass down and stop mussing about, go play your Zeldas or something and stop bothering us," Dave gives you a scandalous glare.

Meanwhile David nods at you in approval from the kitchen, probably in the process fetching more crackers for you and in the background you can hear Dirk giggling from down the hallway. You decide to stop this soon because Dirk sounds... weird when he giggles, nature didn't intend for this chap to be so chipper.

"Fine just don't hurt the innocent pastries," Dave pleads with you.

"Alright, I will show them mercy. Since I am clearly the batter man here," you respond with a smirk. Dave stops making a fuss and just looks at you disgusted.

"Jake, just stop and get in here," Dirk's disappointment is not enough to take away the pride you keep in having made that pun.

You continue on to his room and smile seeing he was able to finish without Dave bleating like a goat around him every few milliseconds. You still have the cinnabuns in hand when Dave realizes you're not planning on handing them over and he makes his move to take them from your grasp. He fails, you chuckle before shutting the door in his face and locking it. Hell yes, you have finally won against him for all that bullshit he pulled last time you were here.

* * *

With Dave taken care of you and Dirk were able to actually accomplish something, and you're not renowned for your great studying abilities so the fact he was able to get you to memorize anything was nothing short of a miracle. Only now is your attention beginning to waver, of course right when he's phallic first into some hardcore mathematics. While he blathers on you look around his room, your eyes decide to settle on a book atop his bed. It looks quite pretty, covered in an extravagant array of details and lines that remind you of old Victorian antiques and the like.

"Hey ol' Dirk? Oh PickleTrees! I don't mean you're old, you're quite youthful and attractive actually- anyways! Heyo what's with that book on your bed?" You inquire, you did not save yourself, you know what maybe there was nothing to save yourself from. Yes, this bloke is quite attractive and he'll have to accept that fact whether he wants to or not.

"Uh, thanks I guess," he responds. Very lightly you think he may be blushing, you now are fully aware you like this look on him, "Oh yeah and that's my music book from senior year."

"Oh, so it's filled with the melodies of your own personal repertoire?"

"I guess if you want to say it like that, yeah. It's a music book, why wouldn't it be?"

"Might I perhaps see some of your works?" You ask tentatively.

Dirk gives you a confused look, "You actually want to see some of my stuff?"

"Of course! You're definitely smart enough to compose and combined with how quiet you can be sometimes, there must be some neat emotions in there highly worthy of song." You respond happily.

Dirk's response to hearing this was to immediately swing his swivel chair in a full three-hundred-sixty degree motion, grabbing the book in the process and punctuating his full circle by slapping it down on the desk before you.

He looks up at you smiling, which you have trouble recalling a memory of him doing prior, and simply instructs you to, "Enjoy."


	21. Did You Forget About The Music Book?

Jake's POV

* * *

And you aim to do just that! Enjoying Dirk's music book you mean, you're not sure why you'd need to clarify that. It hasn't been very long since he showed it to you, so obviously you'd still know what you're talking about.

You open the first page, then glance to Dirk to make sure he's actually okay with this. You wouldn't want to pressure someone into sharing their art and soul on impulse. However, you're reassured entirely, Dirk's poorly hiding the fact that he's on the edge of his seat anticipating your reactions. If anything the pressure is on you.

You proceed, flipping through a few more pages passing the various short notes on things or what looks to be chicken scratch until you spot something that looks concrete. It's a full, well thought through page with something that is likely an all out fully finished piece of music. You study it with amazement, then horror as you can't understand half of the blasted thing, and, yup, cucumberplanks! Dirk's still sporting that expectant did-I-do-good puppy-look and you have no idea if the mutt did or didn't, wait you think Dirk would be a purebred though, he's got that upstanding aura of class to him, despite the worrying amount of chip bags and energy drinks you saw leave his room.

"So... um, the title is uh, well," he awkwardly pauses, everything feels awkward right now and there isn't even really a good reason for it, you're just an ignorant idiot in the field of musical art. "The title isn't really important, just some Japanese thing I thought would be creative to use, like oooh it's another language so mysterious. It's not. Just... Watashi wa bitoitto toki, watashi wa kono kyoku o sozo shite mite kudasai, I think it's safe to assume you don't know what it says." He finishes, looking a bit embarrassed, now you actually want to know what it means, it's probably something really poetic that to some philosopher like him seems just silly and mundane.

"I'm sure it's an alright title, even if you translated it over to mask its meaning a bit. Really though you've unintentionally made me even more curious about this piece, now I really want to know the monikers meaning. O-of course you don't have to explain it if you don't wish to it's ju- oh is that it right there?" You finally notice some small cursive beside the name enclosed in brackets, it looks English.

You sound it out stupidly, "Wh-e-n I," cursive is hard to read, it's even harder when the book is immediately snatched from you and flipped to an entirely different page.

"IReallyLikeThisOneActually, I'veBeenLookingForSomeone'sConstructiveOpinionOnIt!" He stutters out at a horrifyingly quick pace before slamming the booklet back down in front of you.

"I... Alrighty then. I suppose this piece is simply so impressive that it couldn't wait!" There's only a speck of passive-aggression in your tone you think. You can read this piece a little easier but there's still some miscellaneous symbols you can't even begin to interpret. You take too long to respond again.

"You don't quite know all of this stuff yet do you?" Herring be damned, however in the halibut did he figure it out?

"That is the safest thing to assume yes," you want to hang your head in shame, the charade is done with. You don't do that previous thing though because you'd look silly, no one does that in real life, as a result of you not doing that thing you catch the slight ebb of disappointment in his features.

"Guess we should get back to actually studying then," he goes to shut the book but your hand catches his gently as you counter his suggestion.

"Your work is probably wonderful, I just don't really understand the meidum all that well. I'd still like to see some of it though, I have an exam for my music class coming up, so I really should be more knowledgeable on this subject," you confess.

His disappointed aura fades and he seems to come back again as enthusiastic as before, "Oh, I guess I could teach you some music theory then."

* * *

You and Dirk continue the adventure through his senior year music booklet. Along the way you discover many interesting pieces of music, some cartoon illustrated depictions of varying phalli that he claims originated out of boredom during the class, and musical terminology you never heard of. Including embouchure which, apparently, Dirk thought needed a visual demonstration as he defined it, you held back your laughter as long as you could because he hadn't taken notice of how lewd of gestures he'd been making. Eventually he figured it out and stopped dead on the spot. You went back to the book and found some sketches that deeply contrasted the penises by artistic nature, drawings of people, animals, places and the like. They're really beautiful, eventually you tone down the compliments because Dirk is getting far too bashful about them and his face is heating up with every word of praise you give him.

After you've explored about half of the book's majesty your party is interrupted by both and Senior. David bangs on the door politely requesting you let Dave in to retrieve his cinnamon buns, followed by a brisk apology for knocking so loudly.

Dirk obliges and the fun is over, he puts the book away and permits Dave entrance. The lad is reunited with his glazed, cinnamon dough rings, only instead of leaving he decides to eat them on Dirk's bed. You stifle a laugh as you see Dirk's expression turn to one of sick twisted horror as he observes Dave getting crumbs all over his formerly tidy bed.

"Do you mind," it isn't a question when Dirk says it, rather a blunt prompt.

Dave ignores his cue to vacate, "Not at all, continue studying each other's dicks or whatever you were actually doing," he takes a messy bite of his last cinnamon bun, slowly enjoying the taste.

"For you're information we were actually studying," Dirk says.

"Each other's dicks, I know. I just said that."

"Don't be a smart ass, David might hear you," Dirk snaps, putting away the rest of the studying materials, then attempting to straighten out his bed while Dave is being a pain.

"Come on," Dave makes air-quotes with his free hand, "me and my boyfriend are gonna go 'study' for a bit in my room with the door locked," is the lamest excuse," Dave says finishing the last cinnamon bun, or really his shirt just finished the last cinnamon bun.

Dirk's new tactic of trying to ignore Dave seems to be working well for him, however that leaves you to rebuttal Dave's claims. You struggle in disproving him since part of you imagines briefly if his statements were true, you turn around because you're probably blushing.

"Whatever, I'll leave you guys to keep being gay by yourselves, even I can feel the sexual tension," he stretches sexual out longer than necessary before dismounting from the "DragonBallZ" comforter and leaving, he lowers his shades and winks as he shuts the door.

Sour cinnamon buns! You knew he was Satan's prodigy, that single image of his bright red iris wont be leaving your memory anytime soon, or your nightmares for that matter.

You figure any potential _moments_ you and Dirk were sharing are over and it's probably time for you to go home, you turn back to Dirk and try to ignore the way his gentle fingers caress the multiple loose-leaf sheets of notepaper as he neatly stacks and sorts them.

"D-Dirk, uh so, I should get going eh? Heh," holy fuddeltrombone lets try that again.

"I mean we should definitely do this again, hangout that is, I think I've boned up on my studying pretty decently," you're boned, now you want to be, shit now you have one, "maybe dinner sometime?" Dinner is definitely something a friend and his crush can enjoy in an entirely mutual atmosphere.

After a few seconds he responds, "Ok."

Holy shit you realized that sounds an awful lot like a date, you really need to leave but you're still standing here astounded that your slip up actually made you progress, this is truly the bee's tiny fragile knees.

* * *

Jake's just kind of standing there staring at you now, unsure, but you're not much better off. Okay is all you could manage or else your facade would've fallen down the worst metaphorical flight of stairs, there wasn't even a warning about the stairs. He totally just asked you on a date out of nowhere. You're starting to doubt he actually meant to but... this is actually kinda good. Holy shit you did it, someone wants some of this ham and you're damn well not gonna refuse 'em a slice. Hell, maybe later on you'll even let them slap some honey on that shit and glaze it up. Wait, what, okay really though it probably is time for Jake to go, you don't even know what you're making metaphores about anymore.

* * *

Once you manage to calm bloody-well down you and Dirk sheepishly talk out the details of the not-not-a-date, then say your goodbyes and part ways. Once you reach the apartment doors you turn heel and take the elevator back up, knock on his door and reaffirm him that he was in fact your ride home, after the trip back you finally part ways for the evening.


	22. English Aint Dead Yet, Mah Bebs

(Holy Toledo! I left you all on one hell of a cliffhanger for, like, a year? Homestuck's not even relevant anymore. Amazing, I'm the worst author ever! But in all seriousness I ran into some personal issues I wont go into, so I ultimately lost both the motivation and mindset to continue this fic for a bit. Now however, it'd seem I have it back, on the cusp of full recovery? Probably not. On the cusp of updating this fic sooner than 5 months once again? Possibly! We will all have to wait and see, assuming anyone's still reading this. Enjoy this super long chapter cause I find a spot where it'd be appropriate to split it up.)

* * *

Dave's POV

Shortly after your brother leaves for his miraculously acquired date you think now's a better time than any to sift through the fanfictions you stole from him, you almost forgot about that.

You throw on your favourite sweater and grab yourself a plate of cinnamon buns, these aren't the frosted ones like usual, David says he just bought the wrong brand but you like to think that entire company made a consecutive series of mistakes resulting in the manufacturing of non-frosted cinnamon buns. Who the hell eats these without frosting, then it's just shoving spiced dough in your mouth like some kind of pathetic loser who has no self control.

Back to the fics, by now you've read some chapters and skimmed a few of the larger stories, filling in the gaps on your own here and there. The majority of them you can't stop laughing at, they're ridiculously cliche and he might be trying to pass them off as ironic? Some of the notes suggest as much but the actual content is definitely genuine. There's actually a Vocaloid fanfiction, like how high did he even have to be.

You're mockery of all Dirk holds dear is put on hold when David gingerly opens the door, adorned in only the finest garments to ever have entered this household. It briefly crosses your mind that in most other houses one would be concerned when the closest thing they have to a father figure enters their room dressed like Princess Serenity but by now you're completely numb to it, plus he's owning it for the most part. You're tempted to ask him who he'll be taking with him to be Prince Endymion but he begins before you can get the words out.

"So Dave, I hadn't r'lly planned fer Dirk to be out when the date fin'ly came 'round but unf'rt'nat'ly I can't find anyone to watch ya last minute so I was thinkin' maybe ya could stay home by y'rself t'night? I can't quite reschedule the convention and it only lasts a couple a' days 'r so. But anyways, would ya feel okay with bein' here all by yer lonesome? It's okay if y're a lil emotional and want me to stay so I can jus' not go if y'd rather that," you wait a little longer after the pause to make sure there's no catches or annoying details he needs to throw in last minute before attempting a response.

"I... you're actually letting me stay home by myself?" You're still not buying this.

David adjusts his tiara before reaffirming his previous statements, "Yeah, 'm sorry, y're prob'ly not ready fer that yet. Damned it I'm worse than my mother 'm sorry, I'll always be here fer ya."

"N... no that's fine, man. Go out, enjoy yourself. You spend way too much time putting up with our shit you deserve a night out on the town... or in a venue for perplexing individuals who like to parade around dressed in tight bodysuits and craft store felt dresses. Either way," you give him both thumbs up and commit yourself to the Christian faith and pray so hard for this miracle that God will have to claim bankruptcy.

He looks in the direction of his shitty plastic wand with uncertainty, "If yer sure then, I'll see ya some time this week 'round six. Kay?" His gaze returns to you.

"Mmhmm," you violently nod, ushering in a minor headache afterwards.

David saunters over and gives you an awkward hug, as usual. "Love ya, n' tell Dirk where 'm at when 'e gets back," afterwards he gracefully exits the room.

The final shut of the apartment door is a holy sound, signifying that at last you've somehow earned enough brownie points to be trusted at home alone. Though you're unsure how exactly you accomplished this feat of asskissery you surely will not squander it. Booking it to your phone you quickly realize that for one to throw a Ferris Bueler-esq bash they need to have a minimum of 200 contacts so that half will still show up but then invite double, it's basic teen party math. The main issue is you don't know the names of more than 10 of your fellow students, one of them being a plant so you're not sure that counts. You sigh, a long thorough angst ridden outtake of air, before looking back at the laptop on your bed and remembering Dirk's literary masterpieces. For as long as your attention span can muster you craft the best rendition of Dirk's Vocaloid fic possible, then accidentally save it over his... fuck. Well whatever, it was better anyways.

Now you're bored again, closing up the computer and ejecting the USB with Dirk's horrid romcom fanfiction and smut babble, which you've actually learned quite a bit from despite your opposition to it, and placing it in the compartment behind your bed. Maybe you'll send that fanfiction to him someday but for now you've gotta sate you're boredom in a much quicker manner... but first you totally go do that. Only you can't figure out how to email it to him so instead you copy it to another USB with a little post it note that reads, "Enjoy, robofucker. 3" and leave it on his desk.

* * *

Dirk's POV (Well lookie who it is!)

The discord and overall noise of the restaraunt is much more calming in contrast to the uninterupted silence that took place while Jake's Grandmother drove you two here. At least you can now feel confident, for the most part, about your choice of apparel for the not-not-a-date, it fits the well dressed atmosphere of All Love Garden, which totally takes the award for The Least Suggestive Restaurant Name Ever Concieved. Obviously no one would ever think to take a date to such a place so this cannot be a date... it's not-not-a-date but not a date... fuck it, it's a date and you know it. Stop reusing jokes, brain, and focus on what's going on around you.

At this point you and Jake have been seated and handed your menus, you hope a waiter/ress will swing by some time soon to get your drinks because suddenly your throat's feeling kind of dry, and you might be sweating, it's probably very hot in here even though the ice sculpture off to the side's faring just fine. Ice sculpture? Jegus, how expensive is this place. Wait, Jake chose it so he's probably paying for it... what if you're a shit date though and he makes you pay? Fuck! You didn't bring a wallet you're a collosal ass everything is fucked from here on ou-

"What will you be having tonight?" amidst your inane panic an unfamiliar voice cuts in, oh thank gog it's a waitress.

"Uh," you stop and skim the menu. "Spicy calamari, and coke to drink, please."

The waitress repeats the question and all eyes are now on Jake, he looks like he's discovered a whole new world of confusion and befuddlement as he tries to comprehend the logistics of such a menu. Eventually he settles on salad and requests additional breadsticks. You feel bad because the breadsticks are probably for both of you but there's no way in hell you're consuming even one of those butter coated demon dicks of gluten and fat.

* * *

Jake's POV

From what you can tell the not-not-a-date is going well so far, your dead parents would probably be mildly proud. Now you're thinking about that and the date doesn't feel so grand anymore, you try to strike up a conversation with Dirk on a few occasions but none of them get far. The most you got out of all that is the knowledge that you'll have to eat an entire basket of breadsticks by yourself because only now has he decided to announce his gluten allergy. Which may or may not be a lie since you've seen him eat plenty of gluten-inclusive products prior to this. You figure a date may not be the best time to call a chap on his inconsistancies though so you leave it be for the moment.

Speak of the little devil dicks! The breadsticks are here, as well as the food. It looks much better than anything you've eaten in the past year and since salad doesn't have a scent, you can discern that the glorious scent wafting over the table is from Dirk's dish, you'll admit you're a little envious.

You do your best to ignore your childish desire to steal something off Dirk's plate when he isn't looking, after all that wouldn't make for a good date at all now would it? You're a damned gentleman! You grab a firm hold on your chocolate milk and nearly empty it in one go before beginning the consumption of your salad. It is at this time you realize that you've made mistake after mistake in ordering "salad". There are many kinds of salad, leaving you with no idea what the hell they've brought you, and secondly you're pretty sure salad was an anxiety based decision because you don't recall ever favouring it in the past. It's pre-mixed so that's a plus, you sift, stab, and twirl your fork through the dish until finally something manages to cling on and make it into your mouth. It's very bitter, your expression reflexibly tenses up, you've succesfully wasted whatever this overpriced meal was worth.

You look back to Dirk, he looks to be enjoying his meal and he seems to take notice when you're consumed by your aforementioned envy.

"You... enjoying your salad?"

"Um, of course! The food here is absolutely devine, and though I'd never say it to her my Grandma's cooking pales in comparison to this resteraunt's cuisine," guilt washed over you the second those words left your mouth. Grandma's cooking is so much better than this and she should slap you for saying otherwise, you really hope she doesn't somehow find out you said that because you're pretty sure she would slap you for saying it.

"Alright... Ya know" he idly stirs up his food with his fork as he speaks, "I'd be totally okay sharing some rings with you if you'd like. Just throwing it out there."

Oh thank New Havens, "I'm catching that mid-toss then because I plan to take you up on that offer."

"Pfft, cool, I'll just fork some on over I guess?"

"Sounds like a plan, love!" After it comes out you regret tagging on love ever so slightly, it's not as common over here as it is in the uk. You really hope you didn't alter the mood... or do you? It may be your imagination but he almost appears to be blushing while he musses his food about.

He's long since abandoned the fork, dare you ask what the hell he's at just grabbing at it with his hands. Tenderly caressesing each individual ring, spending a painfully ludicrous amount of time inspecting each one before passing it over onto your plate. You're face is practically on fire and you can tell he's taken notice by the satisfied grin he's boasting. There's no way he could know what's doing this to you could he?

In a fit of worry you quickly exhale, "Say! What's keeping those rings from me my good man? You seem to be taking your sweet time, heh heh," nervous laughter is essential on any date.

He puts his sadistic game on hold to respond, "Oh, sorry 'bout that. Just making sure I don't give you any of the mushy ones." He slides a couple off of his plate and onto yours, just like that. You doubt he was inspecting the mushy qualities of any of them.

Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you try one of the rings. Though mild it's much more pleasent than the salad but it tastes a lot different than you had anticipated. Oh it's getting spicy now, that's inconvenient as your drink has less than what would constitute as a sip remaining. Paranoia burrows itself even deeper into your mind when you note there is no onion to be found in these peculiar tasting rings.

What the fuck is calamari?

* * *

Dirk's POV

Jake's expression is less flustered and more along the lines of uncomfortable now. He soon after informs you that you may be ingesting expired onion rings.

"It's breaded calamari rings," you politely correct him.

"Oh, like that one game?" What? Oh... oh my god.

"Calamari rings are squid deep fried in ring shapes," you say, more blunt than a pair of scissors in a kindergarten class. "Not... Katamari Damacy, but that's not a bad game."

"Agreed, also though I'm aware it'd be a tad rude to turn away free food I will have to do such because this is absolutely wretched. My sincerest apologies, please do not let my comments sour the enjoyment of your meal." God why the hell is he such a gentleman in public but a complete ass behind closed doors, isn't usually the other way around?

Your obsidian obscured eyes meet his though he can't possibly know it and the room heats up again.

"Trust me, it wont," You reassure him.


End file.
